Falling
by sugah66
Summary: COMPLETE. A copywriter goes missing, and the case has our team completely baffled. Motive? Suspects? They don't have a clue...but everything seems to lead back to the roommate. DannyOC, MS
1. Missing

**TITLE: Falling  
AUTHOR: Sugah Sugah  
SUMMARY: A copywriter goes missing, and the case has our team completely baffled. Motive? Suspects? They don't have a clue...but everything seems to lead back to the roommate.  
SPOILERS: Through "Lone Star", takes place pre-"Transitions".  
PAIRING: Danny/OC, some Martin/Sam  
RATING: T -- some language, some suggestive dialogue, very mild sexual content. Parental discretion is advised.  
****DISCLAIMER: I am in no way affiliated with CBS or Without a Trace, though it would be super cool if I were.  
****AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first WaT fanfic, so please be kind.**

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* * *

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_Kate Davidson staggered up the stairs, barely able to see through her rage. She fumbled with the keys to her apartment, finally managing to unlock the door, probably due to luck rather than accuracy. She threw open the door and walked into her empty apartment, then slammed the door behind her with such force the walls shook. Then she walked over to the bookshelves, grabbed a framed picture of her and her boyfriend, and hurled it against the wall with all the force she could muster in her current condition. The nearby books were her next victims; some of them were thrown so violently that the bindings ripped, but she didn't care. She continued to storm around the apartment, flinging objects this way and that, until the apartment was in shambles. Only then did she collapse against the wall in tears._

_She looked up suddenly and found someone staring at her from the open door. She groped about the ground for something to throw, her fingers closing around the remote for the DVD player. She threw it at the intruder._

**

* * *

13 Hours Missing**

It wasn't difficult to figure out which apartment Danny was supposed to be at, since it was the one blocked off by police tape and crawling with cops. He ducked under the tape and stepped into the room, immediately stepping on something. He crouched down to see what it was and his eyes fell on a broken picture frame. The glass had shattered, nearly shredding the picture inside, but it looked to be a picture of a pretty blonde girl with her arms around some guy – probably her boyfriend.

He whistled. He'd run into Martin and Sam downstairs, and they both had warned him that the place was a mess, but he hadn't expected this. It looked as though a bomb had gone off or a tornado had ripped through the room. He wondered if the entire apartment looked like this.

Jack was over near the kitchen area, talking to a very attractive redhead with dark green eyes. Jack was saying something, but Danny couldn't hear what, and the girl was shaking her head. Danny walked over to them.

"So let me get this straight," Jack was saying, "you came home from work to find the apartment like this," He gestured at the mess with a sweep of his arm, "and you didn't immediately call the police?"

The girl shrugged. "This isn't the first time I've come home to find the place like this."

"What do you mean?" Danny asked.

She looked at him, one eyebrow raised; the expression would have been cute if she hadn't looked so damn pissed. She turned her glare back to Jack. He nodded his head at Danny. "Miss Sheehan, this is Special Agent Taylor. Danny, this is Molly Sheehan. She's the vic's roommate."

"Could you not call her the vic?" Molly asked. "It's disturbing."

Danny smirked. "Well, a very disturbing thing has just happened. So what did you mean when you said this isn't the first – "

Molly cut him off with a groan and an eye roll. "It was about three months ago. I had to work late, and when I got home…"

_Molly opened the door and found the apartment a wreck. Furniture had been upturned, pieces of glass lay all over the floor, and what remained of the CD player was in a far corner. She immediately panicked._

"_Kate? Kate, are you here?"_

_She ran all through the apartment, but the mess was only contained in the living room. Her bedroom and Kate's bedroom were untouched, and it was only when she went back towards the living room that she noticed the liquor cabinet had been jimmied open. She went directly to the bathroom and found Kate passed out, hugging the toilet, an empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor beside her._

"Apparently," Molly said, "she caught her boyfriend with another woman. She was so upset that she came home, got drunk, trashed the apartment, and passed out."

"And this was out of character?" Jack asked, whipping out his little notebook and writing so fast that Danny was sure he'd never be able to read the words scrawled on the page.

Molly nodded. "Completely. Kate never gets mad. She gets frustrated, she gets ticked off, but she doesn't get mad. Not smash-everything-we-own kind of mad, anyway. So when I got home from work, I just assumed something like that had happened again."

"When did you suspect that it wasn't?" Danny asked.

Molly pursed her lips and pointed to the cabinet below the sink. "When I saw that the liquor cabinet was still locked."

Danny knelt down and grasped the handle of the cabinet, tugging firmly. The door was locked. He stood up. "Is it always locked?"

"Except when Kate's getting a drink, or we have friends over," Molly said. "She's got the only key to it; she keeps it on her key ring with all her other ones."

"What about you?" Jack asked.

Molly raised her eyebrows. "I don't drink." She offered no further explanation. "Anyway, the cabinet was still locked, so I thought maybe she'd gone somewhere else. You know, to cool off. I started calling around – bars she likes to go to, places she usually goes when she's upset. I called a couple of her coworkers to ask if anything had happened at the office – she works at a publishing company downtown – and then I called a couple of our sorority sisters who live on the island. No one had heard from her."

"Did you call anyone else?" asked Jack, who was still scribbling away.

"Her parents, her older brother, and her boyfriend. Her parents and her brother hadn't seen her; there was no answer at her boyfriend's place."

Jack looked up from his notepad and locked eyes with Danny for a brief moment, then turned back to Molly. "What's his name?"

"Steve Kaminski. His number's on the dry erase board over by the fridge." She stood on her toes, attempting to peer over Danny. "There was a picture of him on the bookshelf, but I'm guessing that was the first thing to go."

Danny guessed that he had stepped on that picture. The picture had been shredded, so it wouldn't be of any use to them. "Do you think that maybe something happened between them again?" he asked.

Molly shrugged. "This is the only room that's been touched, and nothing's missing. If it were a robbery, they would have taken something."

"You mean besides your roommate?" Jack said.

* * *

"What do you think?" Danny asked Jack, as they headed for the elevator. They were on their way to meet Martin and Sam, who had been interrogating the doorman and any of the building's residents who happened to be in the lobby at the time of Kate's disappearance. Sam had called up to say that the doorman didn't notice anyone suspicious, which led her and Martin to believe that Kate knew her abductor. "About the roommate?" 

Jack shrugged and pushed the call button for the elevator. "She's hiding something." Danny privately agreed. She'd seemed far too calm for a woman whose roommate had just been kidnapped out of her own apartment.

The elevator appeared only seconds later, and the doors opened with a ding. "You stay here and see if you can get any more out of her," Jack said, stepping inside. "I'm going to check out the boyfriend."

Danny nodded, and the doors shut in his face. He turned around and made his way through the throng of cops back to the apartment.

It was a completely different scene. The mass of cops had disappeared, leaving only the redhead, who had crouched low to the floor and was sobbing quietly into her hands. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes and set about picking the discarded objects off the floor, but when she reached for yet another broken picture frame, she burst into tears again.

"You know," Danny said loudly, causing Molly to jump, "I dated a sorority girl once. She dumped me."

Molly just stared at him, then knelt down and picked up the frame. "I'm sure you've been dumped by all manner of women, Agent Taylor."

Danny grinned. He looked about the apartment, which was still a complete mess. "You want some help cleaning up?"

She cocked an eyebrow, and he saw that her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were tearstained. She didn't seem calm anymore. He wondered how she'd managed to hold it together while all the cops were swarming around her place. If it had been him, he would have lost it by now. He couldn't help but be impressed.

The sound of her voice brought him out of his reverie. "Am I a suspect or a potential victim?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Obviously Agent Malone asked you to stay," she said, bending down and carefully picking up the shards of broken glass, "so you either believe I had something to do with this or that I'll be the next victim." She stood, and her green eyes met his brown ones. "Which is it?"

Danny cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Actually, Jack just wanted me to ask you a few more questions."

The hardness in her eyes softened slightly. "Anything that you think will help bring Kate back." She walked to the kitchen and dumped the handful of glass into the garbage can. "She's all I have left."

Danny picked his way through the living room, making sure to shut the door behind him. "Why's that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, but he caught the quiver of her bottom lip. "My parents died almost four years ago, not long after Kate and I graduated from college. She took care of me. She's my sister, you know. She's the only family I have now."

The death of a parent was something Danny understood all too well. He knelt down and started gathering up the scattered books. "How did they die?"

Molly didn't meet his eye, instead concentrating on a spot of floor by his feet. "They were in the South Tower."

He had the sudden urge to comfort her, but refrained. He continued picking up books, hoping to keep his arms busy so they wouldn't wrap themselves around Molly of their own accord. "Does Kate have any enemies, anyone who would want to see her harmed?"

Molly shook her head vigorously. "No. She's one of the nicest people I've ever met."

"What about her boyfriend? You said they were having problems."

Molly crouched down beside him and began to help. "Not really. I mean, other than that one time she thought she caught him cheating. But ever since then, things have been pretty good between them. At least, she hasn't told me anything."

Danny stood up and set the pile of books on the kitchen counter. "What do you mean she thought she caught him cheating?"

"She saw him at a restaurant with another woman. That's when she came home and trashed the apartment. The next day she confronted him about it, and he said that she was an old friend who was only in town for the day and wanted to see him."

The tone of her voice suggested that she hadn't believed him. "But you don't think that's true."

She looked at him. "Agent Taylor, I was in a sorority with over a hundred girls. I've seen every type of relationship there is, and when a guy doesn't tell his girlfriend that he's meeting a female friend for dinner, it usually means there's something more to it than just two friends catching up."


	2. Weird

Jack was only half listening to Martin's report. He knew that he should be paying attention, that some poor girl's life was at stake, but all he could think about was the newly acquired knowledge that Martin and Sam were together. How long had they been hiding their relationship? How long had they been sleeping together right under Jack's nose, and he'd had no clue? Jack knew that he had no claims on Sam, that she was a single woman and more than welcome to be with anyone that she wanted. But did it really have to be Martin?

"Jack?" Martin asked. "Are you listening?"

Jack jerked out of his musings. Martin and Sam were both staring at him, looking concerned. "Yeah, I was listening."

Martin raised his eyebrows, as if he didn't believe him, but didn't say anything about Jack's lapse in concentration. "The doorman said that five minutes after Kate got home, a guy in a Mets baseball cap entered the building. He got in the elevator and he got off on the same floor that she did."

"Did he come back out?" Jack asked.

Sam shook her head. "No. And neither did Kate."

"What?" Jack pulled out his notepad. "That's a little odd, don't you think? Are there any other ways out of the building?"

Martin shrugged. "Doorman says there's a fire exit out the staircase, but the alarm never went off, so he doesn't think that the door was opened."

Jack nodded. That made sense, but someone who knew what he was doing could get around the alarm if need be – unless there was another way out of the building. Or unless the doorman was in on it, which was always a possibility. Jack had learned not to trust anyone. "Did he recognize the guy?"

"He said that he's seen him before," Sam said, "but he doesn't know his name."

"Okay," Jack said. "Good work. Sam, I want you to meet Viv at the vic's office downtown, see if you can get anything out of her coworkers. Martin, you come with me. We're going to have a little chat with the boyfriend."

Martin and Sam both nodded their understanding, exchanging the briefest of glances before Sam left to go meet Vivian. Martin looked at Jack. "What about Danny?"

"He's staying with the roommate."

* * *

**15 Hours Missing**

Jack parked in front of a Chinese restaurant and shot Martin a skeptical look. "Are you sure this is the right address?"

Martin pulled out the notepad where he'd written the boyfriend's address. He double-checked the information and looked at Jack. "This is the place."

There was a staircase around the back of the building, so martin and Jack clambered up to the second floor and made their way to the apartment number Molly had given them. Jack knocked. No one answered.

Jack nodded at Martin, and both men unholstered their guns. Jack pounded on the door. "FBI, open up!"

When the door still didn't open, Jack kicked it in, and he and Martin shuffled into the room, guns leading. Jack nearly dropped his gun in shock.

The apartment was completely empty. Not a piece of furniture, not a single picture, no belongings at all. It didn't look like anyone lived there or had lived there for some time. Martin lowered his gun.

"Well, this is weird," said Martin.

* * *

"I knew I had another picture of him somewhere," Molly said, depositing a very heavy photo album onto Danny's lap. She flipped it open and pointed to a picture. "Here. This is me, Kate, and Steve on Saint Patrick's Day last year." 

Danny looked at the picture. Kate and Steve both looked highly intoxicated, both of them holding a beer in each hand. Molly sat a little off to the side. She looked thoroughly out of place, but damn fine in a tight green T-shirt that said _Kiss me, I'm Irish_. "Must've been fun for you."

Molly shrugged. "If I hadn't gone, Kate would've gotten wasted and made a complete fool out of herself." She rolled her eyes and headed into the kitchen. "Not that she didn't anyway, mind you."

Danny examined Kate's boyfriend, trying to memorize the guy's face. If he was a suspect, Danny wanted to know his character inside and out. He didn't have a shady look about him, but that didn't mean anything. He looked like the stereotypical fraternity guy, with those movie-star good looks and blonde hair with bleached tips. "How did they meet?"

"Some bar uptown. He spilled beer all over her."

"I'll have to try that sometime," Danny said, grinning.

"I'd like to think, Agent Taylor, that you have more tact than that," Molly said.

"Well, it obviously worked for him."

"Yeah, but Kate doesn't exactly have high standards." He heard Molly in the kitchen behind him, opening and shutting the cabinets, and craned around to see what she was doing. She was apparently making coffee. "Personally, I think she'll date any guy who shows an interest in her."

She glanced at him, and their eyes met briefly, before Danny turned back around. He didn't want her to think he'd been staring. "So you don't like this guy?"

Molly came around to the front of the couch, and he accepted the mug that she offered. "She could do better." She sat down next to him. "But she's done worse."

He turned to look at her and suddenly realized just how close to her he was, and how much their little domestic scene resembled a date – the two of them on the couch, drinking coffee and flipping through photo albums. Luckily, his phone rang. He stood up, thrust his coffee into Molly's waiting hands, shot her an apologetic look, and wandered down the hallway to answer the call. "Taylor."

"Danny." It was Jack. "We just left the boyfriend's place."

"What did you find?"

"Nothing."

Danny opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He cast a wary glance at Molly and retreated farther into the apartment. "What do you mean, nothing?"

"I mean nothing." Jack sounded irritated. "Apparently the guy cleared off. No one's seen him since last night, and I've got five tenants who all saw movers emptying the guy's apartment." There was a pause, and Danny heard Jack mutter a muffled curse; he was probably stuck in traffic. "You still with the roommate?"

Danny nodded, even though Jack couldn't see him. "Yeah."

"Find out whatever you can from her about this guy. I want to know everything. Where he works, where he hangs out, who his friend's are, his cousin's college roommate's middle name – everything. Martin and I are going to rendezvous with Sam and Viv and talk to the vic's parents."

"Sure, Jack. No problem."

"Listen, Danny, until we know exactly what this is about, don't let the roommate out of your sight. She's either our best suspect or the next victim."

Danny gulped and leaned forward until he could see around the corner. Molly had curled her legs up underneath her and picked up the discarded photo album. She glanced up momentarily, caught him staring, and gave him a questioning look, then nodded at the phone. She wanted to know if they'd found out anything. Danny leaned back, so that Molly was out of sight again, and said into the phone, "Right, Jack. Got it."

He hung up and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. This was going to be a long day.


	3. Jealousy

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate it.**

* * *

Vivian retreated to a far corner of the publishing office to call Jack with what she'd learned from the victim's coworkers. Sam was still talking to one of them, reviewing some of the details and confirming everything the guy had told them. It wasn't very promising, although they did get a lead and a reason as to why the victim had trashed her apartment before disappearing.

Jack picked up on the second ring. "Malone."

"It's me," Vivian said, as Sam walked over to join her. "Sam and I just finished talking to some of Kate's coworkers."

"What did you find?"

Vivian pulled out her notepad and scanned everything that she'd written down. "Gavin Patterson, he's a copy editor with Kate, said that she was fine all day until her afternoon cigarette break, which she took around three."

"Do you know what set her off?"

Vivian nodded, even though Jack couldn't see her. "Yeah, we found one of the regular smokers, and she said that someone on the tenth floor – which is a law firm, we already checked – saw Kate's boyfriend at a restaurant with someone matching the roommate's description two nights ago."

There was a pause on the other end. "So the roommate is the other woman?"

"Apparently," Vivian said, shrugging. "More than one person has confirmed that after her cigarette break Kate became agitated, and I've got half a dozen people telling me that Kate said she was going to kill her roommate."

"Well, that gives us motive," Jack said. "What time did Kate leave the office?"

Vivian consulted the notepad again. "Office closes at four – she left around quarter after. What time did the roommate say she got home from work?"

"She was in DC for the day, claims she got back around two in the morning. The apartment was a mess, but she said this has happened before, so she didn't think anything of it. It wasn't until she woke up this morning that she realized her roommate was missing."

"There's a perceptive roommate," Vivian said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, Viv. Good work. Martin and I are on our way to Kate's parents'. You and Sam meet us there. I'll call Danny and see if he got anything out of the roommate."

* * *

**16 Hours Missing**

Danny quickly forgot that he was supposed to be working. He'd tried asking Molly about this Steve guy, but Molly didn't seem to know much about him. She said he wasn't very talkative with her and that she never pried into her roommate's love life. In the end, Danny gave him. But then she'd started asking him questions – basic stuff like favorite color and movie – and the more she asked him, the more it seemed like they were on a date. Now it was his turn.

"Favorite book," Danny said, watching Molly move about the kitchen. In addition to making him coffee, she'd opted to make breakfast as well. In fact, she'd insisted.

"That's easy," she said, stretching up on her toes to reach something on the top cabinet shelf. "_The Da Vinci Code_."

Danny raised his eyebrows. He didn't picture her as a thriller kind of person. He'd imagined a shelf full of tattered romance novels, but when he glanced at the hastily reassembled bookshelf, he noticed several copies of said book. He tried again. "Favorite movie?"

She leaned over to the fridge and retrieved a carton of eggs. "_A Beautiful Mind_."

Danny sighed. She was a hard person to figure out. He was good at figuring people out – most people fit a certain type. But Molly was totally different. She was a sorority girl, so he'd imagined a fairly loose party girl. When he found out she didn't drink, he thought she was a reformed bad girl. But now she'd admitted that her favorite movie was about a tortured math genius and her favorite book was about hidden codes in old paintings. It didn't fit into any of the standards. She was a walking contradiction.

"Why exactly are you doing this?" Danny asked.

Molly finally turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "Doing what?"

Danny nodded at the vast array of breakfast items she'd already made. "You don't have to make breakfast."

She made a noise in the back of her throat. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, Agent Taylor," she said, turning back to the eggs. "I haven't had anything to eat since about noon yesterday, so I'm a little hungry. The fact that you happen to be here is purely coincidental."

"Really?" Danny asked, making his way into the kitchen. He leaned on the counter and watched her scramble eggs.

She whipped the eggs vigorously for several moments before turning to face him again. "If I don't do something to keep myself busy, I'm going to break down. Pass me the pepper."

He glanced around and found the pepper on the island by the sink. He handed it to her, and she sprinkled it on the eggs. "Look," he said, "are you sure there isn't anything you can tell me about Kate's boyfriend?"

Molly moved the skillet off the stove and stuck a plate of bacon in the microwave. She turned around, leaning against the counter. "I don't like him."

Danny smiled in spite of himself. "Not exactly what I was looking for."

"Most of Kate's boyfriends never had any problems talking to me," Molly said. "But Steve, for some reason, doesn't open up. I only know his phone number and his address in case there's an emergency and I need to get a hold of Kate." The microwave beeped, and Molly pulled the plate out and set it beside the skillet of eggs. "People who don't talk are usually hiding something."

Danny shook his head. "And how do you know that?"

She winked at him. "We can smell our own." She gestured to the food. "Help yourself."

* * *

The Davidsons lived in a penthouse on Central Park West and didn't seem all that concerned for the welfare of their daughter. At least, Martin thought so. Mr. and Mrs. Davidson – both physicians in private practice – had invited the four agents in as if they were hosting a dinner party. They'd offered everyone drinks, despite the fact that it was only around ten-thirty in the morning, and proceeded to complain loudly about the price of insurance, even while Jack tried to ask them about their daughter. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Davidson," Jack said, "I'm confuse. You don't seem to be too worried about your daughter's disappearance."

Mrs. Davidson was small – a short, slender woman with sleek black hair. She laughed in a high, girlish voice before she said, "Oh, Agent Malone, Katie does this all the time. Why, she'll probably turn up around dinner and wonder what all the fuss is about."

Jack sighed through gritted teeth. "With all due respect, Mrs. Davidson, your daughter's roommate doesn't seem to think so."

Mrs. Davidson laughed again. "Well, Molly has always been a little protective of Katie. Why, just last week Molly told Katie that she didn't think her boyfriend was good enough for her."

Martin perked up at that. "You mean Steve?"

"Yes, Steve," Mrs. Davidson said. She stumbled over to the wet bar to pour herself another martini. "The six of us were having dinner last Friday, I think it was, and afterwards the girls got into a big argument about it."

_Molly dragged Kate into the bathroom and turned on the vent so that no one would be able to hear them, but Mrs. Davidson refused to allow any secrets in the house, so she listened outside the door. _

_"I don't think you should see Steve anymore," Molly said._

"_What?" Kate said. "Why?"_

"_I just don't think he's good enough for you. He's hiding something, I know he is."_

"_You're just saying that because you want him for yourself."_

"_What? You're insane. I would never do that to you. I just don't like him."_

"_Well, I do! And that's all that matters, isn't it?"_

"So Molly doesn't like Steve?" Jack asked.

Mrs. Davidson nodded. "But it's only in the past few months that she's really said anything. Katie's been seeing Steve for over a year, but Molly hasn't mentioned it until just recently."

"How recently?" Vivian asked. "Can you remember exactly when this started happening?"

"Exactly?" Mrs. Davidson asked, and Martin could tell that she was already tipsy. Her words were starting to slur. "Oh, I'm not sure exactly. I think it started around three months ago."

"Three months," Sam said, casting a pointed look at Jack, which pissed Martin off, although he knew it had absolutely nothing to do with anything other than the case. He still reserved the right to be angry when his girlfriend – or whatever she was – shared secrets looks with her former lover.

"Mrs. Davidson," Vivian said, "one of your daughter's coworkers claimed to have seen Molly eating with Steve two nights ago. Did your daughter mention anything to you about this?"

Mrs. Davidson shook her head. "No, Katie and I aren't that close. But I'd believe it. I don't think Molly would do anything to intentionally hurt Katie, of course, but last week during dinner I did notice that Steve seemed to be paying more attention to Molly than to Katie. I think he's always had a little crush on Molly, personally."


	4. Lies

**A/N: I changed the timeline a bit. I'm making this up as I go along, and I realized after the last section that the amount of time that Kate had been missing didn't really correspond to what was happening in the story. But let me clarify a few things for y'all: Kate disappeared around 5:00 pm, Molly got home around 2:00 am, woke up at 6:00 am and that's when she realized that Kate was missing, so that's when she called the FBI. So the story starts between 6:00 and 7:00 am the day after Kate disappeared. And now the "hours missing" is a little more plausible.Okay then.**

**Keep the reviews coming! I love y'ins guys!**

**Oh, and Claddagh's is a real pub in Columbus, Ohio. One of my sorority sisters was dating one of the bartenders for a while, and it's a really nice little place. I like the name, so I use it often.If any of you are ever in the Columbus area, stop on by!**

* * *

**18 Hours Missing**

Danny stood on the other side of the interrogation room, watching Molly through the window. Most suspects brought in for questioning were either terrified or angry. Molly simply sat there, betraying no emotion whatsoever, staring at the window as if hoping to be able to see through it – almost as if she could tell it was him on the other side. She'd barely moved since Danny had brought her in, except to alternate between staring at the window and staring at a spot on the table in front of her.

Danny turned at the sound of footsteps and saw that Martin was walking towards him, carrying a stack of papers.

"What's that?" Danny asked, nodding at the papers.

Martin shrugged and thumbed through them. "Turns out you're girlfriend's got a record."

Danny ignored his teasing – he'd been giving both Martin and Sam a hard time about their relationship, and he knew that Martin could give just as well as he got. Danny moved to take the stack from Martin, but Martin pulled it out of his reach. When Danny raised a questioning eyebrow, Martin shook his head. "Sorry, man. I need these."

"You're interrogating her?" Danny asked, gesturing towards Molly. Martin nodded, and Danny sighed. He should have known that Jack wouldn't allow him to do it, but he had still held out hope. He'd spent all morning with Molly and had built up a rapport with her. He thought that if she were going to respond to anyone, it would be him. "You mind if I watch?"

"No," said Martin, moving past him and heading towards the door to the interrogation room. "But you know how I get with suspects. I don't want you to be mad at me for insulting your – "

"She is not my girlfriend," Danny said, not caring if he sounded like a teenager. Martin was acting like an ass, and Danny just wanted to shut him up.

Martin smirked and went into the interrogation room. Danny turned to watch, but he heard another set of footsteps approaching. These belonged to Jack, who did not look happy. Danny figured it was because he had spent most of the morning with Molly and learned nothing substantial – except that her favorite color was yellow and that she was a damn good cook.

"Danny, we got a lead on the boyfriend. Let's go."

Danny opened his mouth to speak but could think of nothing to say. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Molly. "I think I should stay for Molly's – "

Jack silenced him with a glare, and Danny dropped his eyes to his feet. "Miss Sheehan," Jack said, "will be fine with Martin. You and I are going to follow up on this lead. The boyfriend is the only person that can tie the roommate to the disappearance."

Danny swallowed hard, resisting the sudden impulse to flick his eyes to the woman seated in the interrogation room. He only nodded and followed Jack down the hallway.

* * *

Martin looked at Molly. She sat staring at the two-way mirror, her face completely impassive. He walked over to the table and sat down on the edge, dropping the stack of papers directly in front of her. He said nothing, waiting for her reaction. But she also said nothing, continuing to stare straight ahead.

"Danny told me that you don't want a lawyer present," Martin said, after the silence became unbearable.

She glanced at him, then at the papers before her, then returned her attention to the window. "I don't need a lawyer. I haven't done anything wrong."

Martin pushed the pile of papers closer to her, so that they spread across the tabletop. "You know what this is?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing from the smugness in your voice that it's my arrest record."

Martin ignored her backhanded barb. He grabbed the nearest sheet of paper and picked it up, scanning over it. "Interesting read."

The muscles in Molly's jaw tightened. "I'll bet."

Martin read off the list of charges. "Driving under the influence, driving with an open container, reckless endangerment, assault, attempted robbery, break and entering, arson – "

"It wasn't arson," Molly said, in a very clipped voice. "It was an accident. And you'll also notice that those are all juvenile offenses, and my record has been clean for almost eight years." She narrowed her eyes at him. "And I don't see what my arrest record has to do with what happened to Kate."

Martin sighed. Molly's dispassionate demeanor had vanished almost instantly, just as Jack had predicted, which was why he had given Martin the girl's arrest record in the first place. Martin hated to admit it, but Jack got results, even if his methods were unorthodox. At least Martin hadn't needed to hold a gun to Molly's head. "Where were you two nights ago?"

Molly furrowed her brow, as though surprised by the question. "Claddagh's. It's an Irish pub on fifth."

"And were you with anyone?" Martin asked, hoping to get her to admit that she'd been with Kate's boyfriend. All he needed was to get her to confirm it, and they'd have enough for a warrant to search her apartment.

"Uh, yeah," said Molly, sounding genuinely confused by the question. "About two hundred college basketball fans."

Martin stared at her. "What?"

"March madness," she said. "I have some money on the tournament, and Kate was supposed to be cooking dinner for Steve at the apartment, so I went to Claddagh's. My friend Finn is a bartender there – he gives me free appetizers."

Martin slid off the table and took the seat directly across from Molly. "So Steve was supposed to be with Kate that night?"

Molly looked at him as though he were speaking a foreign language. "Yeah. It was their eighteen-month anniversary. Kate's big on anniversaries like that – she so rarely gets to that point in a relationship. She'd asked me to clear off for the night, so I went to the pub. I got home around midnight and went right to bed. Then I got up around five to head to DC for the day."

Martin shook his head, trying to clear it. "So then, you weren't having dinner with Steve two nights ago."

Molly made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. "God, no. Do you want Finn's number? He can vouch for me."

"Do you know Gavin Patterson?" Martin asked, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

"Yeah, he's a copy editor in Kate's office. Nice guy."

"According to Gavin, Kate thinks that you and Steve were having an affair."

Molly's eyes widened in genuine shock. "What?"

Martin sat back in the chair. "A lawyer in Kate's building saw Steve having dinner two nights ago with a woman that matches your description."

Molly rolled her eyes. "So what does that mean, that she was a redhead? There are a lot of redheads in Manhattan, Agent Fitzgerald." She exhaled loudly through her nose, and then her eyes suddenly narrowed, as if she'd just arrived at a conclusion. "You all think I did this, don't you? That Steve and I orchestrated this whole thing so that Kate would be out of the way?" She defiantly folded her arms across her chest and said through clenched teeth, "Well, let me tell you that if I was going to bring harm upon the closest thing I have to family, it would be over something worth a lot more than Steve."

* * *

**21 Hours Missing**

Jack suspected that Danny was becoming a little too attached to the case, which was why he'd brought him along to tail the boyfriend. Unfortunately, the lead on the boyfriend turned out to be a bust, as it turned out that Steve Kaminski was a fifty-year-old investment banker who looked very surprised to see the FBI burst into his office. Jack had explained the reason for the mix-up and apologized to the guy, but suffice to say that he was not in a good mood when he and Danny got back in the car.

Jack had called Martin as soon as they were en route to headquarters, to find out what he had managed to learn from the roommate.

"So she isn't the other woman?" Jack asked, after Martin had informed him that the night Molly was supposedly seen dining with Steve she'd actually been on the other side of town.

"No," Martin said. "Her alibi checks out. I called this Finn guy, and he confirms that she was there from about four-thirty to a little after eleven."

"Then Steve never showed up for dinner with Kate."

"She doesn't know," said Martin. "She hasn't seen her roommate since the morning before she disappeared, but she says that it isn't the first time Steve has flaked on a date."

Jack pulled to a stop at a red light and chewed on the inside of his cheek. They were getting nowhere fast. Without the boyfriend, there was no way to tie Molly to the disappearance, and now that Jack had learned that their primary suspect's "motive" was most likely just a misunderstanding, they were back at square one.

"How'd it go with the boyfriend?" Martin asked. "Did you find him?"

"No. Steve Kaminski isn't his real name. He could be anywhere."

Danny, who hadn't said one word to Jack since leaving headquarters, suddenly pointed to something out his window. "There he is!" He hit Jack on the arm. "Jack, stop the car! That's him!"

Against his better judgment, Jack slammed on the brakes. Danny barely waited until the car had arrived at a complete stop before leaping out and taking off in the opposite direction. "Stop! FBI!"

Jack had no choice but to follow Danny. He hung up on Martin and slid his phone into his coat pocket as he chased Danny down the sidewalk, desperately trying to keep up. It was difficult; Danny weaved in and out of pedestrians like a pro, and Jack had to knock a few people over just to keep him in sight. Danny rounded a corner, and Jack finally managed to catch up to him at the end of an alley. He had his gun trained on a tall guy with bleached tips.

"Don't shoot!" the guy said. "I'm a federal officer."

Danny snarled. "Yeah, sure you are. Hands above your head."

The guy put his hands above his head. "I'm not lying here, man. My badge is in my pocket if you don't believe me."

Danny kept his gun on the guy while Jack reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the guy's ID, which revealed that he was, indeed, a federal agent. He was a CIA operative.

"Are you Steve Kaminski?" Jack asked.

The guy shook his head. "Stan Kowalski. Steve is my alias – I'm undercover."

"Undercover doing what?" Danny asked. He never lowered his gun.

Stan sighed, his arms still above his head. "I'm investigating Molly Sheehan. We have reason to believe she may be tied to the mob."


	5. Questions

**A/N: Thanks for the continued reviews! You guys are awesome, seriously. I had a creative writing class where they were all so mean to me that I went home and cried, but y'ins guys are nice. I like you.**

**The "Due South" thing was not intentional, but it did give me a great idea!**

**As for the abruptness of the last chapter, my apologies. See, I have this problem, that I know where I want stories to go, but I don't know how to get them there. So I kind of threw all this stuff in there so that I could move it along and get it to where I knew what I wanted to do, and I apologize if it seemed kind of like, "Woah, where did that come from?" But also, it's my intent to keep you guessing! And trust me, there's still plenty of twists left to come!**

* * *

As Danny seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than staring at Stan, it was Jack who broke the silence. He turned to Stan - or Steve, or whatever his name was. "We went to your apartment. There was nothing there." It went unsaid, but what he meant was, _You ran, and that makes you look guilty._

Stan nodded. "Yeah. I think Molly's bosses are on to me, so I had to clear out."

While his reason was totally plausible, it made absolutely no sense to Jack. He suspected that there was something Molly wasn't telling them, but she didn't seem to be the type of person who would be involved in the mafia. And for a guy who was supposed to be undercover, what was Stan doing whipping his badge out in the middle of the day, where anyone could see him? And if he wanted to learn more about Molly, then why wouldn't he date her and not her roommate? And if he really thought that the mob had learned he was a federal agent, why would he waste time moving his furniture out of his apartment?

"What makes you think Miss Sheehan works for the mob?" Jack asked.

Stan paled – not overwhelmingly, but visibly. "That's classified."

That reaction brought Danny out of his stupor. "But surely you have some evidence, right? I mean, the CIA just doesn't go investigating random people."

Stan quickly glanced back and forth between Jack and Danny, as though determining who would be the best person to talk to. He finally settled on Jack, which was probably a good thing. Danny looked as though he were about to spit fire. At least he had finally lowered his gun.

"Aren't you guys suspicious?" asked Stan. "No one knows what she does for a living."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. That was certainly not proof enough of mob entanglements. But he looked to Danny for confirmation. Danny shook his head. "It never came up."

But Stan wasn't finished. "And all of a sudden, she comes into this major windfall of cash."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Her parents died. That 'major windfall' was probably her inheritance."

Stan coughed. "A little suspicious, if you ask me."

Danny took a menacing step towards Stan, who cowered against the wall. Jack furrowed his brow – not exactly the actions of a CIA agent. Besides, there was nothing suspicious about Molly's parents' deaths, and if Stan really were investigating her, he would know that. It wasn't exactly confidential.

"They were in the South Tower," Danny said through gritted teeth. "So unless you're suggesting that Molly had something to do with September 11, I'd – "

"She has a gambling problem," Stan said, cutting off the end of Danny's threat. "Gambles all the time, mostly on basketball. I think she's involved in some kind of scam."

Danny groaned. "That's ridiculous."

Jack rubbed his chin. Martin had mentioned something about her having money on the NCAA tournament – but a lot of people placed bets on games. That didn't exactly prove anything, either. But if Stan was lying, then what was really going on?

"Question, Stan," said Jack. "Why are you carrying your badge on you if you're undercover?"

Stan hesitated – just for a moment, but Jack saw it anyway. "I was actually coming to talk to you guys. I want to help with the investigation."

Jack forced a smile. "Then you were going in the wrong direction."

**

* * *

22 Hours Missing**

Once again, Danny found himself staring at Molly through the window. She was leaning back in the chair, her head lolling over the back, staring at the ceiling. She had to be bored out of her skull. She'd been sitting in that chair for almost five hours and, according to Martin, had been nothing but cooperative. But everything she told Martin conflicted with everything that Stan told Danny and Jack, and though Danny wanted to believe her, he didn't know what to believe.

She had never mentioned her occupation. Danny had told Jack that it never came up, but that should have been the first thing that he asked. No one had asked. No one had thought to. Was it possible that she really was working for the mafia? Was she the one who learned that Stan was undercover? Mrs. Davidson had told the others that Molly had been trying to get Kate to break up with him for months – was that why? And Molly had even told Danny that she thought Stan was hiding something.

And even though Stan had proof of his story – the badge that Danny fingered in his pocket – Danny didn't believe him. On the one hand, the guy had an answer for everything. On the other hand, the guy had an answer for everything – not necessarily the correct one. Wouldn't someone investigating Molly know that her parents had died on September 11?

On the way back to headquarters, Stan had tried to explain about Molly's record, but Danny didn't believe that either. After all, sometimes the best of them were a little wayward in their youths, and he couldn't really hold that against her.

Jack had given him permission to confront Molly. He seemed to think that Danny might be able to extract the desired information out of her more easily than anyone else.

When Danny walked into the room, Molly was looking at him, her head still hanging over the edge of the chair back. She straightened as he came towards her.

"Agent Taylor," she said, "I trust your mission was fruitful."

He just looked at her, trying to gauge a reaction. He prided himself on his ability to read people, but she wasn't giving him any help. "Is there anything you want to tell me?" he asked.

She looked down at the table, as though ashamed. "Actually, yes, there is." For a fleeting moment, Danny thought she was actually going to confess to everything, but then she looked up at him, a glint in her eye, and said, "I don't like your friend."

Danny started. That was not the answer he'd been expecting. "Excuse me?"

She nodded to the two-way mirror. "Agent Fitzgerald. I don't like him. He's too smug." She paused, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Cute, though."

Danny bristled at her offhanded compliment and tried to infuse as much casualness into his tone as he could. "I hate to break it to you, but Marty's – "

"Involved," she said. "Yeah, I know. The blonde girl, right? What's her name? Agent Spade?"

He tried to wipe the look of shock off his face and was probably unsuccessful, as he couldn't quite make his mouth shut. "What makes you so sure?"

She grinned. "That's my job."

Now he was getting somewhere. Sort of. "And what is your job?"

"To find out things that people don't want found out." She must have seen the confusion in his eyes, because she continued. "She came in here about two hours ago to tell him something, and I could tell. You learn a lot about people by observing, and I could tell from the way they were angling their bodies towards each other, from the way his voice softened when he talked to her, and from the way they were looking at each other." She raised her eyebrows. "You'd have to be an idiot not to notice."

Danny tried not to react, tried not to let her see that she was right. "They're friends." He decided not to comment on her last statement, because it had taken him a while to catch on.

Molly smirked. "My guy friends don't look at me that way. They weren't obvious about it, which leads me to believe it isn't supposed to be common knowledge, but from the look you're giving me now, I'd say that you know." He started to stammer out an explanation, but she ignored him. "And it was apparent that she wants to keep it a secret and he doesn't, because he was definitely more obvious than she was. Subtle little touches are a dead giveaway. You might want to tell him that."

Danny finally found the strength to close his mouth. "And you got all that from a five minute whispered conversation?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm good at what I do."

She was hiding something. He knew it. She'd all but admitted it earlier, during breakfast. He just had to figure out what. He had to draw it out of her, get her to make a mistake. He took Stan's badge out of his pocket and tossed it on the table. "You know what that is?"

Something flickered briefly in her eyes, but it was gone before he could identify it. She looked at him. "Where did you get that?"

Danny clenched his jaw. "From Stan."

She scrunched up her face. "Who the hell is Stan?"

Danny leaned forward. "You might know him as Steve. His real name is Stan Kowalski."

"Stan Kowalski," Molly said. She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Like the guy on 'Due South'?"

Danny blanked. He'd known the name had sounded familiar, but he hadn't been able to place it. But he couldn't focus on that right now. Besides, he had gone with Jack and seen that they hadmade a mistake. "Our tip on Steve Kaminski led us to the office of a fifty-five-year-old banker, who didn't seem too keen on us being there."

"That would be Steve Kaminski, sr.," said Molly, and Danny could hear the frustration creeping into her voice. "Did you guys not investigate Steve before you left?"

Finally Danny decided that tiptoeing around the question wasn't getting him anywhere. "Who do you work for?"

Molly had the sense to look outraged, at least. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your employers. What are their names?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not at liberty to discuss that." She bit her lip and looked away. When she turned back to him, her features had softened significantly. "The number on 'Steve's badge' is 0169432."

Danny picked up the badge and examined it. Sure enough, the serial number was stamped in the middle. He glanced up at her. "How did you know that?"

She sighed heavily and threaded her fingers in her hair. "Because that's my badge."


	6. Nowhere

Danny didn't think he was capable of anything except gawking, which he was sure was not attractive. "What do you mean?"

Molly scrubbed her face with both hands. "Did I not express myself monosyllabically enough?" Though she still maintained her playful tone, he could tell that she was frustrated, exhausted, and worried. She spoke again, over-enunciating each word. "That is my – "

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "You lied to me," he said, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice.

She glanced up at him briefly, but returned her gaze to the table. She didn't seem to be able to look him in the eye. "A lie of omission isn't exactly a lie." She traced the edge of the table with one finger. "Though Picard would argue otherwise."

Danny stood up so abruptly that he knocked his chair over. He braced his hands on the table and leaned forward until his face was only inches from hers, and even though he was furious with her, he couldn't but notice how green her eyes were. They were dark and smoky, the color of an evergreen tree. He shook his head to clear it and said, "So, what, because I didn't point blank ask you if you worked for the CIA, you didn't see fit to tell me?"

She leaned back in the chair and folded her arms across her chest. "Why do I get the feeling that you don't believe me?"

Danny's head was spinning. He dropped his head into his hands and tried to wrap his mind around everything. "Do you realize how unbelievable this all sounds?"

"You were willing to believe Steve but you won't believe me?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. "I'm insulted."

He choked back a groan and cocked an eyebrow. "Can you prove it?"

Her eyes hardened, and the twinkle was gone as she dug her wallet out of her back pocket and tossed it on the table. Danny opened it and perused the contents. He pulled out her driver's license, debit card, Blockbuster card, pictures of her parents, and behind her insurance card was her CIA identification.

He couldn't bring himself to look at her. "You're the undercover agent?"

Molly shook her head. "I'm not undercover. It's just not supposed to be public knowledge. My superiors seem to think that my life would be in danger."

Danny walked over to the mirror and leaned against it. He tried to only concentrate on his reflection, but his eyes kept flicking to Molly's. She was staring back at him, and he would barely let their eyes meet before returning his gaze to his own image. Why had he been so willing to accept that Steve was an operative, but he didn't want to believe that Molly was? Maybe it was because he didn't want to think that Molly would lie to him, even though they barely knew each other. But he'd felt more at home with her than he had with a long time. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a decent date. Technically, he and Molly hadn't been on a date, but it felt like they had.

"What department do you work in?" he asked, more because he couldn't stand the silence than he actually wanted to know. But if her bosses though that she would be endangered if others knew she was an agent, she must have been in an important one.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "I'm a cryptographer."

He whirled around to face her. "A code breaker?" She nodded, and suddenly everything clicked – her favorite movie, her favorite book, the fact that she'd kept her old college math textbooks. It all made sense.

No, that wasn't entirely true. He was still confused as all hell, about a lot of things, and he didn't think she would be able to explain away all his questions, even if they sat in the interrogation room for two solid days.

Molly reached for her badge, but he grabbed her wrist just as her fingers closed around it. He tried to ignore the jolt in his stomach and the way her breathing accelerated, but it was damn near impossible, and he was only free of the spell when she wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

He took a deep breath to regain his composure. "How did Steve get your badge?"

She ran her fingers through her hair. "I hollowed out my old calculus textbook, and I keep it in there. It's something I knew no one would ever look in." She picked a loose hair off her shirt and let it drop. "My best guess is that it fell out when Kate was trashing the apartment, and I'd assumed that whoever took her grabbed my badge as well."

Danny raised his eyebrows. "So you think that Steve took Kate?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't think he had anything to do with it."

"But Jack and Marty went to his apartment, and it was cleared out."

She furrowed her brow, obviously confused. "Well, that doesn't make any sense. What did he say when you found him?"

Danny had to look at the table because he couldn't look at her. "He told us that he was investigating you. Said that you were involved with the mafia and that your bosses had found out he was an agent, so he was leaving town."

She snorted with laughter, which made him raise his head to stare incredulously about her. She covered her mouth, as though embarrassed about laughing, until she calmed down. Then she said, "I made a joke about being in the mob a few weeks ago. That's probably where he got the idea."

He sat back down. "Do you think that Kate's disappearance is connected to the mob in any way?"

"No," she said. "I've never dealt with the mob. That's not my department."

Danny screwed up his face in concentration. "Then why would he say that?"

Molly grinned. "My money's on 'because he's an idiot.'" When Danny glared at her, she shrugged. "You had him cornered. He had to say something."

Danny sighed and dropped his head to the table. Every time he thought that they were getting somewhere, it blew up in their faces. He couldn't ever remember a case being such a mystery. They had no leads, no clues, and no suspects. At this rate, they were never going to find out what happened to Kate.

* * *

**23 Hours Missing**

After keeping Molly in the interrogation room for nearly six hours, Jack finally decided that she didn't have anything to do with her roommate's disappearance, and he'd agreed to let her out. In her place went this Steve character, who was shaking uncontrollably and so pale that he looked like a walking corpse.

Sam scrutinized Steve as Jack led him into the interrogation room. He still hadn't learned that they all knew he was lying about being a federal agent, but that apparently didn't stop him from being nervous as all hell. His eyes darted around the room, as though searching for a means of escape, and he was still shaking when Jack walked over to meet Sam at the window.

She raised an eyebrow. Jack had asked her to question Steve, which she didn't completely understand. She thought that Jack should do it, but when she told him that, Jack just shook his head.

"You sure you want me do this?" she asked, turning back to look at Steve.

Jack nodded. "Yeah. We need someone with a cool head to talk to him, otherwise he might clam up."

Sam smiled. "And you don't qualify as having a cool head?"

Jack gave her a look. "I'd ask Viv to do it but I've got her and Martin tracing all the calls that were made from Miss Sheehan's apartment. Maybe she wasn't the only roommate hiding something."

"What about Danny?"

"Because Danny would probably kill him," Jack said. He started walking down the hallway. "And we need this guy alive. We're running out of options."

Sam sighed and walked into the interrogation room. "Hi," she said, walking directly to the chair and then dropping into it. "My name's Sam. I need to ask you a few questions, if that's all right."

Steve nodded but said nothing. He probably didn't trust himself to speak.

"Why did you lie about being a federal agent?"

He stared at her, moving his mouth with no sounds coming out, for several minutes before he could finally speak. "I panicked," he said. "I went over to the apartment to see Kate, right, and the place was a mess…"

_Steve could hear a scuffle inside the apartment and, thinking that Kate or Molly was in trouble, burst inside. What he saw was Kate hurling various objects across the room. She grabbed some of Molly's books and threw them against the wall, then kicked at them where they landed on the floor. She chucked knickknacks and picture frames in every direction – some of them she just tossed over her shoulder, but some she heaved with all her might. When there was nothing left to throw, she collapsed against the wall, sobbing._

_He cleared his throat to let her know that he was there. When she saw him, she leveled an icy glare in his direction and grabbed the DVD remote and threw it at him. He ducked, and the remote smashed against the wall in the hallway._

"_You bastard!" Kate said, getting to her feet and charging him. He grabbed her wrists to keep her at bay. "You son of a bitch! How dare you cheat on me! And with my own roommate!"_

"_Whoa, hold on," Steve said, avoiding a well-aimed kick at his groin. "I'm not cheating with Molly!"_

_After he said that he realized that he'd basically admitted to cheating, and so had to endure Kate pummeling him for a good five minutes. Luckily, she wasn't that strong, and so it didn't hurt. Much._

"_You always liked her better," Kate said. She went to smack him, but he dodged her hand. "Just admit it! You've always wanted her!"_

_Steve didn't say anything, because if he said that it wasn't true, she would just call him a liar, and if he owned up to him, she'd get something heavier to throw at him. So he stayed silent, which didn't help matters any either._

"_I hate you!" said Kate. "Get out of here! Go! I never want to see you again!"_

_Steve walked out of the apartment and was barely through the doorframe when Kate slammed the door behind him._

"When I got down to the lobby, I felt bad for the way I'd left things, so I went back up to see if I could talk to her. But when I got back up there, she was gone."

Sam shook her head, confused. "So you took Molly's badge?"

Steve groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I told you, I panicked. I saw the badge, and I thought Molly would blame me when she came home and found the place a wreck."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "And your apartment?"

"I took a job in Philadelphia a few months ago," Steve said. "I wasn't going to tell Kate until everything went through, but she started getting suspicious, thinking I was cheating on her."

"You're moving?" Sam asked.

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Of all the rotten luck, huh? And when those guys found me, I just told them that the mob had found out I was an agent so that I had an excuse. It's a little weird, isn't it, that the day I happen to move out of my apartment, my girlfriend disappears?" Steve shook his head in disbelief. "I mean, who would know something like that?"

* * *

**24 Hours Missing**

Martin was waiting for Sam when she walked out of the interrogation room. He'd been watching her question Steve for the last twenty minutes, after he and Vivian had finished pouring over Molly and Kate's phone record, and he smiled when he saw that she managed to extract key evidence from Steve. Unfortunately, none of it helped them figure out who really was behind Kate's disappearance, but at least they now knew who wasn't – and that was just as important.

Sam walked towards him, acknowledging him with a half-smile but making no move to stop, so he grabbed her elbow as she passed.

"So, he's not guilty of anything?" he asked, even though he knew that Steve wasn't, because he'd been observing his interrogation. He just needed to say something to her.

"Besides being a lying coward?" she said, the corners of her lips tugging upwards in the trace hint of a smile. "No. But now we're back to square one. We have no idea who took Kate. We don't even have a clue."

Martin tugged lightly on Sam's elbow, drawing her closer to him. "After this is over, you want to go out for dinner?"

Sam gently freed herself from Martin's grip and stepped away from him – not very far, but enough to put a noticeable distance between the two of them. He swallowed a sigh; he knew that she wasn't yet ready to inform everyone that they were seeing each other, but he was getting tired of hiding their relationship. Usually, when someone wanted to keep a relationship a secret, it meant that he or she was ashamed of the other person. And if that was how Sam felt, then he didn't want to stay in a relationship that was going nowhere.

"Come on, Sam," Martin said. "Everyone already knows.Danny knows, Jack knows– "

"You know I'm not ready to tell everyone," she said. "You know what people will think." Her voice was soft, but firm, and Martin knew he shouldn't push. But damnit, how much longer did she intend to deny there was anything going on between them?

"Who cares what people think? I don't."

"Martin," said Sam, and there was just a hint of warning in her tone, "I don't want to be seen as the office tramp."

"I know," Martin said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. They'd already been down this road once, with disastrous results, and he wasn't anxious to make a repeat visit, but something had to change. He didn't like sneaking around, as if he was doing something wrong. "But think of how this makes me feel, okay? You don't want anyone to know that we're together, and I was ready to announce it two weeks after it happened. You know what that makes me think? It makes me think that this means more to me than it does to you." He choked on the words, but he had to get this off his chest. He'd wanted to say something like this for months. "And if that's the case, Sam, then maybe we should just end this now. I don't want to be your consolation prize. I don't want to be the person you settle for."

He didn't wait for her to respond, but turned on his heel and stalked off. She called after him, but he ignored her. It seemed as though he'd been doing that a lot lately.

* * *

**A/N: Couldn't resist having a little Martin/Sam interaction, since there isn't enough of them on the show for my taste. Did anyone else read the TV Guide article in like January and watch every week waiting for the whole Martin/Sam/Jack thing to happen, only it never did, and you got so mad? Yeah, that was me. Anyway, I just thought I'd throw something in there. I didn't intend for it to detract from the story, so I'm sorry if it did, and don't worry, I've still got plenty of ideas.**

**Just read _The Da Vinci Code_, in case you all were wondering. And if you haven't yet read it, I highly recommend it. I couldn't put it down, I read it in two days.**

**"Oh, you told the truth...up to a point. But a lie of omission is still a lie." - Jean-Luc Picard (_ST:TNG_/"The First Duty") Thanks to The Quotable Star Trek for that.**


	7. Drifting

**A/N: My apologies for the amount of time that passed between updates. My grandfather recently passed away, and the past couple of weeks have been kind of hectic, but hopefully I will be able to post more reliably now. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.**

**This story takes place pre-"Transitions". Don't want to spoil the episode for those who haven't seen it, but those who have should know what I'm talking about.**

**I hope I got Viv's illness right. There was an article about it in the TV Guide, which is where I got the info. But keep in mind, I was an English major, so when it comes to medicine, I have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about.**

* * *

Martin stormed blindly through the halls, barely noticing where he was going, until he rounded a corner and crashed into someone.

When his vision cleared, he realized that he had just bumped into Molly, who was standing beside Danny, rubbing her head. She stared at him for several long moments and then said, "Trouble in paradise?"

Martin opened his mouth to make a smart remark, but Danny interrupted before he could say anything. "Hey, Marty, what did Sam find out from Steve?"

Martin shot a glare at Molly and turned to Danny. "That he didn't have anything to do with Kate's disappearance."

"Told you," Molly said to Danny, nudging him in the ribs. "He's not smart enough to plan something like this."

"Well, someone's behind it," Danny said. "People don't just vanish into thin air." He turned to Martin. "Find anything in the phone records?"

Martin shook his head, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't let his personal life interfere with his work; it was one thing he'd been afraid of ever since he and Sam had started seeing each other. At the time, he'd considered it to be worth the risk, but now he wasn't so sure. "Nothing incriminating."

Molly cocked an eyebrow. "What, did you think our phone records were going to say, 'Hi, I'm in league with the mob'?"

Danny rolled his eyes, but he was laughing. "You need to get off this mob thing."

Molly ignored him and kept her gaze focused on Martin. "Mind if I take a look?"

Martin furrowed his brow. "Don't you know who you call?"

"I'm not my sister's keeper. She does stuff without my knowledge."

Not in the mood to argue at the moment, Martin sighed and pointed to where he knew Viv was still perusing the phone records. "You can give Viv a hand, if you want."

When Molly was gone, Martin and Danny just stared at each other for a while. Then Danny flicked his eyes briefly to the floor and back, saying, "So, is everything okay with you and Sam?"

Martin narrowed his eyes. He didn't want to talk about it. Actually, that wasn't true. He desperately wanted to talk about it, but technically, he wasn't allowed to talk about it. Sam had asked him not to discuss their relationship with anyone, not even Danny, even though Danny had been the first person to figure it out. But it seemed as though Molly, who didn't even know either of them and had only met Sam for a few minutes, had also figured it out. So why in God's name did they still have to sneak around as if the entire office was still in the dark?

"I don't understand women," was all Martin said, which basically encompassed any problems he had ever or would ever have with Sam.

"You're not supposed to understand women," said Danny. "They don't want us to."

"Everyone knows," Martin said. "But she still wants to keep it a secret."

Danny sighed and shook his head. "Marty, she's just not ready. She was with Jack and basically got burned, and she's afraid of getting burned again. Just give her time."

Martin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from screaming in frustration. Eight months wasn't enough time? What the hell was enough time? Maybe in six years, she would be ready. But Martin didn't say that. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Danny said with a grin. "I'm always right."

Martin snorted a laugh. "Yeah, in your vast expertise of the opposite sex." He poked Danny in the shoulder. "When was the last time you had a date again?"

Danny blushed deep red, much to Martin's amusement. "I guess I deserved that."

"Why don't you go help your girlfriend go over her phone records?"

"She is not my girlfriend," Danny said through clenched teeth. But he left anyway, and Martin watched him walk over to wear Molly and Viv were in the middle of a heated discussion.

He needed a drink, and – alcohol being prohibited at the office – had to settle for coffee. It was cold and bitter, but he drank it black, because he was too wrapped up in his own problems to really care about the coffee. Was Danny right? Was Sam just afraid that Martin would leave her in the lurch the way that Jack had? But if that were true, then why had she stayed for so long? He wished he could get a woman's perspective on the situation, but the only woman he was all that close to was the one he was having problems with at the moment – he wouldn't feel comfortable dumping all his personal issues on Vivian, especially since she wasn't even supposed to know.

It wasn't until after he had finished his second mug of cold coffee that he realized Sam hadn't even attempted to follow him. He really didn't understand women.

* * *

Molly and Vivian were arguing when Danny approached. He couldn't tell what the argument was about, and though he was curious, he wasn't about to ask, because they both looked as though they might bite the head off of the first person to interrupt them. So he hung back a moment and waited for a lull.

"Would you please let me do my job?" Vivian asked, ripping a piece of paper out of Molly's hands.

"My way is easier," Molly said, yanking the piece of paper back.

"Your way may just get your roommate killed." Viv grabbed a corner of the sheet. She sounded much more composed than Molly, but Danny knew her well enough to see that she was furious.

Molly, on the other hand, was spewing fire. Her eyes blazed, her jaw was set, and she clenched and unclenched the fingers of her free hand, as though itching to punch Viv's lights out. "We don't know that." She tugged on her end of the paper, causing it to rip in half.

Danny felt that he should interrupt before they broke something else – like say someone's nose. "Problem, ladies?"

Vivian and Molly both turned to look at him – Vivian the picture of serenity, and Molly resembling an angry bull, the way her nostrils were flaring.

"Molly and I are having a little disagreement," Vivian said. Molly snorted and folded her arms defiantly across her chest, but said nothing to discount Viv. "About one of the phone numbers on the records. She doesn't recognize it."

Danny shrugged. "That's not unusual."

Molly delicately lifted one eyebrow. "Kate and I had the same circle of friends." She said it as if that should explain everything, but Danny agreed with Jack that Molly might not have been the only one not being truthful.

Viv cleared her throat, and only then did Danny realize that he and Molly had been staring at each other. He turned his attention back to Vivian, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks and knowing that he must be blushing furiously. "When I told Molly the standard procedure for this situation," Viv said, trying not to grin, "she suggested we just call the number and talk to whoever answers the phone."

Danny shook his head. "We don't want to give them any reason to get suspicious. If they have Kate, and we call them, they could panic and hurt her."

Vivian gave him a "duh" look. "That's what I told her."

Molly groaned. "I just think that – "

Danny grabbed Molly by the elbow and pulled her aside. "I know you're worried about Kate," he said, leaning in so close that he could smell her perfume, "but let us do our job." It was fading, but he could still smell it – lilacs and vanilla. "We know what we're doing."

She looked at him. Her eyes were bottomless, her stare penetrating, and he almost lost his senses then and there. He could stand there forever, just looking at her. Breathe? Who needed to breathe? Who needed oxygen when there was her? She held his gaze for a moment, then blinked, breaking the connection, and suddenly the flood washed over him, as if he had just been roused from a deep sleep. He took a shaky breath in an attempt to regain control, and she smiled shyly. She had to know what she was doing to him.

"Okay," she said. "But take me home. I'm just going to interfere with your investigation."

Danny felt himself nod, though he wasn't truly aware of doing it. Yes, home. That would be a good idea. Because as long as Molly was around, he wouldn't be able to concentrate. And he wouldn't do the team much good if he kept drifting off, drowning in the deep green of Molly's eyes. "I'll get my coat."

* * *

Vivian watched Danny lead Molly away, guiding her with one hand placed lightly on the small of her back, and chuckled softly. He was so far gone that he probably didn't even realize just how quickly he was falling. But it would do him some good. He'd been alone for too long.

She gasped as a sharp pain shot across her chest. She clutched at her shirt, breathing through the pain, as the doctor had instructed, until it faded to a dull throb and then was gone entirely. The pains were becoming more and more frequent, and it was getting harder and harder to hide her condition from her coworkers. And though she would bet that none of them even knew what exactly hypertrophic cardiomyopathy was, they would probably be able to figure out that it was a serious condition.

When the pain was gone, she set about uncovering the identity of the mysterious phone number. It was listed on the records several times, which could mean any number of things, but Vivian's money was on Kate having an affair. Martin had disagreed, citing Kate's reaction to just the idea that Steve may have been cheating with Molly, but Vivian was under the impression that Kate's strong reaction was to Molly, and not Steve. From everything Vivian had heard – be it from Kate's coworkers, her parents, or from Molly – the girls' relationship sounded pretty one-sided.

The response to her search query was almost instantaneous. The mysterious number was in fact the cell phone of one Peter Riegel, who – according to the Department of Motor Vehicles – was a sports agent who lived in the Village.

"You look happy," Martin said, appearing so suddenly beside her that Vivian nearly jumped out of her seat at the sound of his voice. He set his coffee mug down on the desk and leaned over her shoulder to stare at the computer screen. "Find something?"

"Any ideas as to why Kate would be involved with a sports agent?" Vivian asked.

Martin shook his head, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Isn't Molly the huge sports fan? She's the one with money on the NCAA basketball tournament. That's her alibi for the night her roommate disappeared."

Vivian shrugged and used a pencil to point to Peter Riegel's picture. "Well, according to the phone records, Kate has called him a number of times in the past few months."

Martin sat down on the desk behind her. "Everything stems from a few months ago. What happened then that set all this stuff in motion? What are we missing?"

Vivian had no idea. But come hell or high water, she was going to find out.

* * *

**26 Hours Missing**

Molly rummaged through her purse, looking for her keys, and Danny had never felt more awkward. He hadn't ever been in this situation when it wasn't a date, and he wasn't quite sure how to say goodbye without looking like a huge idiot. Should he even leave her? They still had no idea who had taken her roommate, so she could still be in danger, but he was almost positive that he couldn't trust himself alone with her anymore.

She found her keys, inserted it in to the lock, and had barely stepped inside when she screamed – a horrible, blood-curdling scream that made Danny's hair stand on end.

In a flash, he had his gun out and was barreling into the apartment, expecting to find a knife-wielding maniac or the mangled corpse of her roommate, but he didn't see anything.

At first.

It took him really only a few seconds to realize what it was that had terrified Molly. Written on the wall in foot-high letters, in what appeared to be blood, were the words, "You will suffer."


	8. Anger

**27 Hours Missing**

Peter Riegel had seemed very surprised to find two FBI agents at his door, but he let Martin and Vivian in without hesitation. Upon finding out that Kate was missing, he became very distraught and explained that the two of them had been seeing each other for some time, but because they were both in relationships, they had kept it quiet – which explained why Molly hadn't recognized the number.

"I still don't see what this has to do with me," Peter said, after the initial shock had worn off. "I'm happy to help, of course, but I don't know how much help I can be."

Vivian cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and said, "Anything you can tell us will help."

Martin narrowed his eyes. Viv seemed to be in pain. He'd noticed it before, but he didn't want to say anything. At least, he didn't want to say anything to Viv. He'd mentioned it to Sam, once or twice, and Sam had said that she didn't know anything. But the way that she said it made Martin think that she did know and just wasn't talking. If something was seriously wrong with Viv…

He broke off his train of thought when he realized that Peter was talking. He launched into the entire story of his and Kate's relationship. She'd come to his office because she was editing an article on NCAA basketball and needed to double-check the facts. They hit it off and started secretly seeing each other.

"It started out, it was just going to be a fling," Peter said. "We're both involved, but I haven't been happy with my girlfriend for some time, and she told me she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her."

Martin, whose thoughts had drifted during the story, suddenly snapped back to attention. "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

Peter pursed his lips. "About three months, I suppose."

Martin exchanged a look with Viv. Three months – the magic number. He turned back to Peter. "And did she ever mention her roommate?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "All she ever talked about was how everyone liked her roommate better than her." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Kate has major self-esteem issues. In the end, her lack of self-confidence was just too much. I couldn't handle constantly having to reassure her. I broke things off a few days ago."

Martin wondered if self-esteem was Sam's problem, too. Maybe she just couldn't understand why anyone would love her, and that was why she was so unwilling to admit that what she and Martin had what, in most parts of the world, constituted as a relationship. Hell, in Portugal, they'd be married.

"So you aren't together anymore," Viv said, and Martin had to force himself to tune back into the conversation.

"No," Peter said, shaking his head.

Martin sank back into the couch. They were still treading water with this case. All of their hot leads fizzled. He looked at Peter. "Can you think of any reason someone would want to hurt Kate?"

Peter shook his head again. "I can't, no." He paused, and there was a sudden, sharp intake of breath. "Unless it had something to do with that article she was working on."

Viv looked confused. "I thought you said it was about basketball."

"Well, yeah, basically. But there was a lot more to it. I mean, if someone knew how to use the information in that article, they could seriously make a lot of money."

Martin and Viv exchanged another look, and Martin couldn't help thinking that Molly apparently made a lot of money on NCAA basketball.

"Do you have a copy of the article?" Viv asked.

Peter nodded emphatically. "I'll go get it."

* * *

Apartment 4G looked much the same as it had earlier that morning, right after the call came in, with only one glaring difference – the words painted on the wall.

Sam couldn't take her eyes off the words. She gave an involuntary shudder as she thought of how the scene looked like something from a horror movie. A forensics expert had determined that they had been painted in blood – but it wasn't human blood, which meant that someone hadn't drained Kate to use her blood for paint. It was hardly a reassuring thought, considering the intent behind the words. The message was unmistakable – and dripping all over the carpet.

It was now clear to Sam that whoever had nabbed Kate hadn't done so because of anything she had done; they were obviously trying to get to Molly.

But why? What had the girl done that was so horrible someone had to resort to kidnapping – and possibly killing – her roommate? Something wasn't adding up.

And speaking of Molly, the important job of calming the hysterical roommate had apparently fallen on Danny's shoulders, judging from the way they were standing. She was in tears and didn't seem to be able to stand, supported only by Danny, who had wrapped his arms around her. Sam raised an eyebrow at the sight. Jack had mentioned to her that he thought Danny was becoming too involved with the case, but she had taken that to mean that he was taking it personally. They all had cases like that. Jack had Chet Collins, and she had Colleen McGrath. But it seemed as though Danny's "involved" was slightly different from theirs.

Sam instinctively glanced around for Martin, but he wasn't there. Viv wasn't either, but Sam already knew why – she was going to check out the sports agent. Martin had probably gone with her – most likely in an effort to put some distance between himself and Sam. He was obviously still upset with her. And perhaps he had a reason to be, but that didn't give him the right to act like a teenager.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Jack come up to her until he snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Hello in there," he said, grinning. He obviously thought he was funny, but she had never wanted to punch him more than she did at that moment.

"Been able to get anything out of Molly?" she asked. _Business, Sam,_ she told herself. _Stick to business. Jack doesn't need to know that you were obsessing about Martin._

Jack just gave her a look. "Does it look like we've been able to get anything out of her?" He shook his head. "Danny told me it took him five minutes just to get her to stop screaming."

Sam stifled a smile. "Oh, he pried himself away to talk to you, did he?"

"The shortest conversation I think I've ever had."

Sam glanced around the apartment. "So what do we know?"

Jack sighed in exasperation and buried his face in his hands. "Not much. Viv and Martin are going to call in after they talk to this Peter Riegel person, and Danny's been trying to get Miss Sheehan to talk for the better part of an hour. But as near as we can tell, whoever took Kate did so to get to Molly."

Sam's eyes came to rest on Molly, who looked horrible. She was still crying – so racked with sobs that her whole body was shaking. Danny cupped her face in his hands and spoke softly to her, obviously trying unsuccessfullyto calm her down.

"It's working," Sam said. She turned back to Jack. "She works for the CIA. Do you think this could be in retaliation for something she was working on?"

Jack shook his head. "I checked with her supervisor. After some cajoling, he admitted that she hasn't had any major cases for a while. She's been on hacker patrol."

Choosing not to wonder exactly what kind of "cajoling" the supervisor needed, Sam asked, "Hacker patrol?"

"She monitors the internet, trying to catch hackers and identity thieves. A pretty boring job, from what I understand."

Sam furrowed her brow in confusion. Why would they have someone like Molly doing something as mundane as that? Sam thought that she was supposed to be some kind of math genius. "Did he say why she hadn't had any major cases?"

Jack lifted his shoulder in a barely perceptible shrug. "A few months ago, someone broke into Miss Sheehan's college library and stole a bunch of theses – including hers. Apparently, her supervisor was afraid that someone would try and hurt her because of whatever she wrote about." He shot a pointed look at her. "We need to find out what was in that paper." He used his head to gesture at Molly. "And she's not being very cooperative at the moment."

"How many months ago?" Sam asked. "Three months?"

Jack screwed up his face in thought. "I think so, yeah."

Sam stared at Jack, slightly shocked. It wasn't like him to be so preoccupied that he missed something so important. All the odd behavior exhibited by both girls began about three months ago. Perhaps the theft of Molly's college thesis was the catalyst behind it all. Sam couldn't figure out exactly why, not without that paper, but it couldn't be a coincidence. Jack was right – they had to find out what her paper was on. And if Molly was incommunicative, they only had one other option. Or rather, many options, depending on the point of view.

"Her sorority sisters," Sam said.

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Her sorority sisters. One of them has to know what her thesis was about, right?"

Jack's eyes lit up. "Good thinking. She's got some numbers on that dry erase board over by the fridge. One of them has to be in her sorority. She said there are some on the island."

* * *

Jack watched Sam leave and bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to feel something besides the jealousy that was burning in the pit of his stomach. Sam had been so obvious, looking around the apartment for Martin, that Jack had finally just come right out and told her where he was. It shouldn't bother him – it really shouldn't, he and Sam had been over for years – but damnit, it did. He'd assumed, once his marriage dissolved, that he and Sam could pick up where they'd left off. But he hadn't quite known how to broach the subject, and after the deposition from hell, it didn't seem like the right time. But finding out about her and Martin, it was like getting punched in the gut – several times.

He glanced at Danny and Molly, and the sight of them just angered him all the more. It didn't look like an FBI agent comforting a victim; it looked like a boyfriend comforting a girlfriend. And even if Jack hadn't been pissed off with women at the moment, he still would have found the situation entirely inappropriate.

He stormed over to them, but they were so wrapped up in each other – and just the thought made Jack nauseous – that they didn't even notice him coming. He cleared his throat as loudly as possible and enjoyed seeing the two of them jump.

"You have news?" Danny asked, making no apologies for his behavior.

Jack grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him roughly away from Molly, dragging him several feet until they were among a throng of police officers. "What are you doing?"

Danny raised his eyebrows, apparently confused. "I'm talking to you."

"That's not funny. Your behavior is completely inappropriate."

"I'm calming her down," Danny said. There was a challenge in his tone that Jack secretly hoped he gave in to. As the person Jack really wanted to punch wasn't there at the moment, Danny was the next best thing. "That's what you told me to do."

Jack licked his lips and clenched his hands into fists. "I didn't tell you to fondle her."

Danny's eyes widened so much that his eyebrows disappeared into his hair – and as Danny didn't have much hair, that was saying something. "What?"

"You were groping a suspect in an ongoing investigation," Jack said through clenched teeth.

"I was not groping her," Danny said, in a voice that could only be called a growl. "What's gotten into you?"

Jack poked Danny in the chest. "You are way out of line."

A small voice in the back of Jack's brain told him that he was being irrational, that Danny hadn't done anything wrong, and that he was only displacing his anger with Martin and Sam onto the nearest available target, but at the moment, he didn't give a rat's ass, because the anger was liberating. He hadn't felt this good in a long time.

Danny looked incredulous. "I'm out of line? I'm just doing my job."

Jack made a noise in the back of his throat. "I see. So now your job description includes screwing – "

He didn't get to finish that statement, as Danny's fist hit him squarely in the jaw. Jack stumbled backwards into some random officer, then gathered his strength to throw a punch at Danny. But someone – the police officer he'd bumped into, most likely – grabbed him and held him back. Another officer was doing the same to Danny, and Molly, who looked remarkably composed for someone who'd been bawling her eyes out only moments before, stepped between the two of them.

"What is wrong with you two?" she asked, whipping her head back and forth to glare at both of them in turn. "You're supposed to be professionals, and you're acting like hopped-up teenagers. So unless you two are fighting about who gets to be the one to tell me that you found my roommate, you better stop right now before you break any more of my stuff."

She turned around, jerking away when Danny tried to grab her, and stomped off, presumably disappearing into her bedroom, because seconds later Jack heard a door slam.

Danny narrowed his eyes menacingly at Jack. "Feel better?" he asked in a snarl, before going after Molly.

Jack rubbed his jaw and winced. He didn't feel better. In fact, he felt about ten times worse than before.

* * *

**A/N: The whole Portugal thing is something my friends and I used to do in eighth grade. I can't remember where we got it from, but at 14, I thought it was hilarious. Which should tell you something about the kind of kid I was.**


	9. Misjudged

"Here it is," Peter said, emerging from his office after only a few minutes of searching and carrying a stack of papers that looked more like a book than an article. "I knew I still had a copy of it."

He handed the stack of papers to Vivian, who anxiously flipped through it. But most of the article was math equations, and wherever there was type, someone had doodled in the margins. "It doesn't look very professional," Viv said, which wasn't entirely accurate. True, the doodles detracted from the seriousness of the article, but what little writing there was in it was eloquent and well written.

"That was my first impression, too," Peter said. "It looks like a high school kid wrote it." He raised his eyebrows. "But it doesn't read that way. Whoever wrote that is a genius."

"You don't know who wrote it?" Martin asked.

Peter shook his head. "Kate never told me. Something about confidentiality or something. She just wanted me to double-check the facts, like I said."

Martin furrowed his brow. "Then why do you still have a copy of it?"

"Because it's fascinating. I mean, the ideas proposed in this article could revolutionize the gambling industry as we know it." He exhaled slowly through pursed lips. "Unfortunately, I don't understand it. I never was very good at math, and you have to really know what you're doing to puzzle your way through those equations."

Vivian chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. What if Molly had orchestrated the entire kidnapping, not because of Kate's boyfriend, but because of the article Kate had been working on? Molly had admitted to Martin that she had money on the NCAA basketball tournament, and she was a math genius, recruited by the CIA to work as a code breaker. She would certainly be able to figure out the complex equations. Perhaps Kate had mentioned the article once, and Molly was determined to get her hands on it.

But that didn't make any sense. Because the tournament was already underway, and Molly had already placed her bets. So the equations wouldn't be of much use to her now. And why would she have to kidnap her roommate? Why not just steal the article from her?

"Did you know that Kate's roommate was a math major?" Martin asked, obviously following the same train of thought as Viv.

"She mentioned that, yes," Peter said. "And I was always surprised that Kate didn't take this to her. I can only go so far with this article, not knowing anything about math." He paused, eyeing Martin suspiciously. "Do you think that Kate's roommate might have had something to do with her disappearance?"

Martin ran his tongue along his bottom lip. "It's one of the possibilities we're considering."

Peter shook his head again. "I don't see that."

Viv cocked an eyebrow. She'd been under the impression that Peter and Molly had never met. "I didn't know you knew her."

"I don't," Peter said, "but I know Kate. The way Kate talks about her roommate, you'd never know why the two of them were friends. Personally, I'd worry about Kate doing something to her."

* * *

Molly had shut and locked her bedroom door, but all Danny wanted to do was explain. She hadn't heard the conversation; she hadn't heard the things Jack had said, the things he'd insinuated. Danny had felt obligated to defend her honor. Yeah, he'd thrown the first punch, but Jack had totally provoked him, and if he could just explain that to her, then everything would be all right.

Hopefully. Because he couldn't stand the thought of her being mad at him, especially since he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

He knocked on the door. "Molly? Can I come – "

The door opened before he could finish the question, and before he was even able to register that she'd opened the door, she'd grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him inside.

Molly's room looked nothing like he expected. Truthfully, he wasn't sure exactly what he had expected, but whatever he had expected, this wasn't it. There were Post-Its everywhere, each with scribblings on them – math equations, random quotes, some with gibberish that Danny couldn't recognize. There was a giant map of the solar system on the wall directly above her bed, right next to another map of the solar system, which on closer inspection turned out to be a map of the universe according to _Star Trek_.

He turned to Molly and immediately forgot why he'd wanted to talk to her in the first place. Because she had changed out of her business suit and into a pair of jeans and one of those baby doll tees that brought out the green of her eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he drank her in, standing there with her hands on her hips, looking thoroughly pissed and amazingly beautiful.

And at that moment he wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss her.

Which reminded him of the conversation with Jack, which was the reason he had come to her room in the first place – not to do that thing he was thinking of, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how long it had been since the last time. And it had been a long time.

"Look, about what happened," he said, wincing as his voice cracked like he was a teenager, "I just wanted to – "

She cut him off with a wave of her hand, obviously still pissed, but she seemed slightly amused at the squeak in his voice. "Forget it. I need to go somewhere. Can you take me?"

Hell, he'd take her anywhere. She wanted to go down the street, he'd walk her down the street. She wanted to go to Philadelphia, he'd drive her to Philadelphia. She wanted to go to Atlantis, he'd charter a boat and some scuba gear and find the damn lost city, just so that he could take her there.

Unfortunately, she wasn't supposed to leave the apartment, not until Jack had questioned her.

"Jack says we have to stay here," he said, and he really, really hated Jack right then.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, Agent Malone is an asshole, and the only reason he wants me to stay is because he still thinks I'm involved somehow." Danny didn't bother to argue the point, and Molly continued. "But I really need to go somewhere, and I need to go now, and if I don't go, it could seriously be detrimental to my sanity."

Well, how could he argue with that? "One problem," Danny said, jerking his thumb at the closed door. "Your apartment is crawling with cops at the moment, and it'll be fairly obvious that we're leaving."

Molly shrugged. "No problem. We'll use the fire escape."

_Fire escape?_

She crossed to her window and opened it. He followed, looking down, and sure enough, there was the fire escape.

How had he and the others missed that? Sam and Martin had been trying to figure out how Kate and her abductor could have gotten out of the building, and none of them had stopped to consider the fire escape. Boy, they were really off their game on this case. At least Danny had an excuse – his brain had been addled by lust, because whenever Molly was near, he just didn't seem to be able to think straight. But the others, really, they had no excuse.

Molly sat down on the window ledge and swung her legs around, then ducked her head underneath the open window and slid out onto the fire escape.

Danny stuck his head out the window and looked up into Molly's eyes. He wasn't sure how much longer he would have the strength to resist her, but he knew that he had to. Running off with a suspect in an ongoing investigation would not look good on his record. Couple that with punching out his supervisor, and he was probably looking at suspension – minimal.

"I'm going to get in trouble for this," he said.

Molly smiled, and Danny felt his knees go weak and was suddenly glad that he was leaning against the window ledge for support. "Then say that I kidnapped you. Agent Malone will like that."

Without a second thought, Danny crawled out the window.

* * *

**28 Hours Missing**

Jack answered his phone on the second ring. "Malone."

"Jack, it's Martin."

Jack gritted his teeth and choked down the bile threatening to rise in his throat. He had to remind himself to be professional, that Martin had every right to want to pursue a relationship with Sam, and that it wasn't Martin's fault that he and Sam had ended on such bad terms. However, the only thing keeping him from reaching through the phone and strangling Martin was that it was physically impossible.

"What've you got?" was all Jack said.

"We better bring Molly back in for questioning," Martin said. "Viv and I think she may be behind this after all."

Jack's eyes automatically went to Molly's bedroom door, which had been closed ever since she had pulled Danny inside. He didn't know what they were doing in there – and he didn't really want to know – but he'd told himself that if they didn't come out in half an hour, he was going in after them. They had five minutes left.

"What makes you think that?"

"Apparently Kate was working on an article that details how to predict the outcome of basketball games."

Jack snapped to attention. "And Molly likes to put money on basketball games."

"Exactly. Viv and I think that she orchestrated this whole thing to get at that article."

"Got it," Jack said, already moving towards Molly's bedroom. "Meet me back at the office as soon as possible."

If Martin responded, Jack didn't hear, as he'd already hung up. He wasted no time in kicking Molly's door open, only to find that her room was deserted, and the window was wide open.

* * *

Sam had finally managed to get a hold of one of Kate and Molly's sorority sisters, a woman by the name of Emma Dawson, who lived in Chinatown. Sam arranged to meet Emma at a coffee shop down the street from her apartment, but when she walked into the shop, the only patrons were three twenty-something women grouped in a booth near the back.

"Agent Spade?" one of the women asked. She had shoulder length black hair and blue eyes, and she waved Sam over.

"Emma Dawson?" Sam asked, casting a curious glance at the other two women seated with her.

"That's me," Emma said. She nodded at the others. "These are a couple other sisters." She gestured to the brunette with a ponytail. "That's Heather Mills. And that," she said, pointing to the woman with cropped blonde hair, "is Melina Rivers."

Sam said hello and sat down on the bench next to Melina. She looked at Emma. "I was under the impression that I was only going to be meeting you."

Emma smiled apologetically. "Yeah, sorry about that. But when you told me why you were calling, I called Heather and Melina. You see, we were in the same pledge class as Kate and Molly. We know the two of them better than anyone alive, and if anyone can help you figure out what's going on, it's us."

Sam nodded, taking note of the way they were all wringing their hands nervously. They were obviously worried. But worried about whom? "I really just had a couple of questions. About Molly's senior thesis."

Emma nodded her head at Melina. "Then you'll want to talk to Melina. She roomed with Molly senior year."

Sam turned to Melina. "What was her thesis about?"

Melina looked surprised, but answered the question with little hesitation. "She had found a way to predict the outcome of basketball games. Mathematically."

It was Sam's turn to be surprised. She'd known that Molly was a math genius, but to be able to predict a basketball game? That was a whole new kind of math that Sam didn't even think she would be able to comprehend. Molly was like a female Good Will Hunting. "Really?"

"Yeah," Melina said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's some kind of algorithm – I never really understood it, I was a Biology major – but it's got something to do with some kind of physics…" Melina trailed off, gesturing futilely with her hands. "I'm really not helping, am I?"

"Actually," Sam said, scribbling furiously on her notepad, "you are. See, we think whoever took Kate was trying to get whatever's in Molly's thesis."

The three girls wore identical looks of confusion, and it was Heather who spoke. "But, that would have to mean that it's someone we know. There aren't that many people who know about Molly's thesis."

Sam furrowed her brow. "She didn't publish her results?"

Emma shook her head furiously. "No. She didn't want people to know how to do it. She didn't think it would be fair."

Sam was even more baffled than she had been before. What was it about this case? Nothing seemed to add up. It was almost as if someone had planned it to be as perplexing as possible. They still had no suspects. They weren't even sure if they had motive. "But she uses it, right?" Sam asked. "She told us that she has money on the NCAA tournament."

"Oh, she uses it," Heather said, "but she doesn't keep any of the money that she wins."

Sam's confusion must have been evident, because the other three laughed. "Anything she wins," said Emma, "she donates to charity. Usually she gives to that fund for families of people who died on 9/11, but she's trying to save up to establish a scholarship for kids with…" Emma paused, biting her bottom lip, "…less than admirable backgrounds."

Sam sat back against the booth. She was beginning to realize just how much she'd misjudged Molly. "She didn't mention anything about that."

Emma shrugged. "She doesn't broadcast it. What's that she always says? That it's not really giving if everyone knows you're giving…or something like that. It's probably a Bible verse. Molly's a very religious person."

"She's a saint," Heather said, with only a mild hint of bitterness in her voice. "She's a hard person to live up to. No wonder Kate hates her so much."

* * *

**A/N: Look for the next section to contain a third person's account of Kate and Molly's odd relationship and more about Molly's "less than admirable" past. I got a great idea the other day which can't come in to play until later in the story, and I'm absolutely dying to get there, so let me know if I'm rushing this too much, in my attempt to get to the good stuff.**

**The idea for the basketball algorithm thing is from an episode of Crossing Jordan ("You Really Got Me"), which I really liked and absolutely had to use.**

**Thanks for the continued reviews! I absolutely love you guys. It's a lot more rewarding to write knowing that people not only read my stuff but like it, too!**


	10. Faith

"What?" Sam asked, completely at a loss for words. _Kate hated Molly? That doesn't sound right, not from everything that Molly's said. Molly acts like the sun shines out of Kate's ass._ "I thought they were really close."

Emma, Heather, and Melina exchanged knowing looks, the kind of look that clearly said they should have seen this coming. Sam had seen that look before, had probably worn it herself more than once, but for some reason, it just didn't click with everything she had learned during the investigation. Then again, nothing about this investigation clicked. Sam couldn't remember any other cases that had gone quite the way this one had. It was almost as if someone were testing them, trying to see if they were smart enough to figure it out.

Well, damnit, she was going to figure it out.

"You've only gotten Molly's side of the story," Heather said, rolling her eyes a bit. "Trust me, if you could hear Kate talk sometimes…"

Sam turned to a clean page on her notepad and looked up at the women. "Can you think of any time in particular?"

The three shared a glance again, as though debating who should be the one to tell the story. At last Melina sighed and said, "Okay. There was one time about, what, six months ago…"

_Kate had sounded upset on the phone, so Melina made sure to hurry over to her apartment. It was just about the one-year mark in her and Steve's relationship, which was usually about the time everything went to hell, so she expected to spend all night listening to how much men sucked. Melina, married with a young daughter, would only half listen to Kate's rantings, because Kate needed to get them out of her system._

_The first thing Kate said, upon opening the door and finding Melina on the other side, was, "I hate her."_

_Melina was immediately taken aback. "Her" could be any number of people, logically, since there were a lot of women in Kate's office and over one hundred girls in their sorority, but somehow, Melina just knew whom she was talking about. "What did she do?" she asked, cautiously, because getting Kate mad would not help matters any._

"_She's getting a raise!" Kate said, as if she were announcing that Molly was responsible for the end of humanity. "She did something good at work, and now her boss is giving her a five percent raise. Five percent! I can't even remember the last time I got a raise."_

_Melina bit her tongue to keep from saying something, because no matter what she said, Kate would just take it the wrong way. "And she was gloating?" she asked, just trying to figure out why in God's name Kate was so upset about this. But she knew that wasn't it, because Molly didn't gloat. In fact, Kate probably had to beat the information out of her at all._

"_No," Kate said through clenched teeth, now pacing about in front of the couch. "Just said it like it was a natural, everyday occurrence." She was so mad she was practically spitting. "Like people get raises all the time."_

_Melina didn't want to say that people did get raises all the time – not all people worked for an asshole like Kate did, and some people were actually good at their jobs, unlike Kate. "I'm sure she didn't mean to upset you."_

"_Of course she did. That's the only reason she tells me stuff like this – to piss me off. She knows I hate my job and just wants to remind me how much better hers is."_

_Melina pursed her lips but said nothing. They didn't even know exactly what Molly did for a living – all she would ever say was that she consulted for the government – but whatever she did, she took it very seriously, and as this was her first raise in her entire four years of working this job, Melina personally thought that Kate had nothing to be angry about. "That's not what she does. She's happy, and she wants you to be happy for her."_

_Kate snorted. "Why should I be happy for her? Perfect Molly. I hate her."_

Sam shook her head in utter disbelief. "If Kate hates Molly so much, then why does she live with her?"

"Because," Emma said, leaning forward conspiratorially, as though she were telling Sam a big secret, "Molly's the only one who will live with her." She sat back against the booth. "Kate's impossible. Always has been. She was in CR almost all the time. Chapter relations," she said after a pause, having obviously seen the look of confusion on Sam's face. "It's kind of like the chapter's judicial committee, to handle disputes between sisters and such."

Sam shook her head again, this time in complete denial. That had not been the picture that Molly had painted for Danny. "Molly told one of our agents that Kate was the nicest – "

"Of course Molly would say that," Heather said. "She's got a blind spot where Kate's concerned. Can't see the forest for the trees."

"Surprising, really," said Melina, "since Molly's always been very perceptive. But even when Kate's practically throwing it in her face, Molly still can't see what a drain she is."

"A drain?" Sam asked.

"She's sucking the life out of Molly," Emma said. "Bit by bit. And if I thought Molly would listen to me, I'd have tried to get her out of that apartment years ago."

Sam's hand was cramping, she was writing so fast. "Has Kate ever tried to hurt Molly?"

"Not physically," Emma said, becoming very absorbed with her fingers. She glanced up suddenly and met Sam's gaze. "But there are other ways of hurting her. Like two weeks ago, a bunch of us were over for drinks…"

_Molly and Kate were in the kitchen, being the hostesses, as usual. Molly was bustling about making food, and Kate was preparing the drinks. There were probably a dozen people over, and Kate was making mudslides. She loved mudslides, but the others hated the way she made them. She put too much vodka in them._

"_Hey, Moll," said Kate, not even glancing over her shoulder, "you want one?"_

_Molly spared Kate the briefest glance before returning to the all-consuming task of chopping vegetables for the veggie tray. "No."_

"_Come on." Kate turned on the blender and watched the concoction puree before her eyes. "One drink won't kill you. You need to loosen up, have more fun."_

_By this time the others in the apartment had turned to watch the conversation. They were all very quiet, watching to see who would pop first. If they had been betting women, there would have been a pool going, because one of them popping was a sure thing – probably Molly. It was the Irish in her._

"_I'm fine, Kate," Molly said, dividing the vegetables into their separate sections on the tray. "I'll just have a Coke."_

_Kate grinned and held out a glass right in front of Molly's face, pouring the mixture into it. "Just one. Nothing bad will happen. You're just paranoid."_

_Molly shook her head, grabbed the veggie tray, and walked into the living room. "I'll stick with soda, thanks."_

"Molly doesn't drink, right?" Sam asked, wanting to make sure she got all the facts right.

The sorority sisters exchanged yet another look, and Sam couldn't wait to hear the reasoning behind this one. Then she remembered Molly's record, and realized that there was still a whole other side to her – the delinquent she'd obviously been in her teens. That had been a pretty impressive rap sheet Martin had shown her.

"Molly's an alcoholic," Melina said. "She's been sober for a while now – she was sober even before we met her – but after 9/11…"

"It was hard on her," said Emma, continuing where Melina had trailed off. "She almost fell off the wagon half a dozen times, and Kate did nothing to help her. Almost managed to convince her to take a drink more than once."

Sam dropped her head into her hands, her notes momentarily forgotten. "Why would Molly stay in such a self-destructive relationship?"

Heather licked her lips. "Agent Spade, have you ever dated a guy where he meant more to you than you did to him?"

Sam froze. Wasn't that what Martin had accused her of only hours ago? That their relationship was more important to him than it was to her? Was she just as bad as Kate – slowly sucking the life out of Martin until nothing would be left but an empty shell, but he was still too far-gone to see just what exactly she was doing to him? Would she end up resenting him the way Kate obviously resented Molly, for keeping her in a relationship that she didn't really want?

"Agent Spade?" Heather asked, and there was concern in her voice.

Sam shook her head to free herself from the jumble of thoughts that had gathered, but she wasn't able to do it. They were still there, still nagging at her. She took a deep breath to compose herself and glanced up at the three women, who all wore identical looks of concern. "I'm fine," she said, hoping that she sounded convincing. The last thing she needed to do was pour her heart out to a bunch of strangers. "You were saying?"

"It's just that I think Molly needs Kate more than Kate needs her," Heather said, though she didn't seem to believe that Sam was okay. "And whether or not Molly realizes it, it's going to drive her crazy." She paused, and then said, with a little more bounce in her voice, "Plus, I think Kate's bipolar."

* * *

Jack tried calling Danny three or four times, but each time, it went straight to voicemail, which meant he'd turned his phone off. And with his phone off, they wouldn't even be able to track him with the GPS, which Jack suspected was the reason Danny had turned off his phone in the first place. Despite knowing that he was unreachable, Jack continued to call Danny's cell, pacing up and down Molly's hallway like a caged animal. The other cops in the apartment wisely stayed out of his way, but they'd at least had enough sense to put out an APB on Danny's car.

Jack was beyond pissed. What the hell did Danny think he was doing, taking off with one the case's prime suspects? He was going to be in so much trouble. Jack didn't even want to think about all the paperwork this lapse in judgment was going to cause. Danny would receive an official reprimand, for sure, for interfering with an ongoing investigation. He would most likely be suspended. He could even be demoted – restricted to deskwork, just like Sam had been after being shot. The only difference was that Danny had willingly done this to himself, whereas Sam had had no choice.

Jack left two cops at Molly's apartment on the off chance that she and Danny returned, but he was pretty sure that they wouldn't. Jack didn't know Molly all that well, but Danny at least had enough sense not to come back to the apartment. Thinking quickly, Jack also had two cops go to Danny's place, should the fugitives go there. Then he got in his car and headed back to the office to regroup. He knew that Martin and Vivian were already on their way there, and hopefully Sam would finish up with her interrogations and join them quickly. Jack desperately wanted to figure this out. That little Irish bitch was not going to get the best of him – not again.

* * *

**29 Hours Missing**

Martin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Sam so excited over a case, but she ran into the office practically bubbling over with enthusiasm, hurriedly recounting her entire conversation with Molly and Kate's sorority sisters. She didn't give Martin and Viv much chance to ask questions, but after mentioning Molly's senior honors thesis, Martin felt compelled to interrupt.

"Wait," he said, and as he glanced at Viv he saw that she looked as though she would have said something if he hadn't, "are you saying that Molly wrote that?"

Sam nodded emphatically, shoving her notepad into his hands. "They said that Molly figured out a way to mathematically predict the outcome of every basketball game," she said, only slightly out of breath from rushing through her story. "And Jack said that someone broke into the library where Molly's thesis was being stored, and it was stolen. Someone's obviously after her thesis! That's got to be the motive behind Kate's kidnapping. They nabbed Kate to get Molly to explain the algorithm to them, so that they can use it to bet on basketball games! With that kind of information, they could make a fortune!"

Martin examined Sam's notes, which were very detailed and filled with all sorts of conflicting views of the relationship between the two roommates. "Just one problem," Martin said, glancing up at Sam. "If that's the case, then why hasn't anyone contacted Molly yet?" He chose to say nothing about the article Kate was working on. If Molly had written it, that may have explained why Kate had been unwilling to mention the author to Peter, and it probably wasn't important anyway.

"Yeah," Viv said. "She would have received some kind of ransom demand by now."

"We're the ones who may be getting the ransom demand," Jack said, strolling into the office, looking more pissed off than Martin had seen him in a long time. And Jack was usually pissed off, so that was saying something. And Martin couldn't help noticing that Jack was alone.

"Where's Danny?" Sam asked, glancing around as if expecting Danny to be lagging behind.

"Where's Molly?" Martin asked, raising his eyebrows. Jack was supposed to be bringing Molly in for questioning. It wasn't like Jack to not bring in a suspect. Something was up.

"I have absolutely no idea," Jack said, and Martin could tell he was really fighting the impulse to throw something.

"They took off?" Vivian asked, sounding completely bewildered.

"Seems that way," Jack said, nodding.

Sam shook her head. "That doesn't sound like Danny."

Jack shrugged. "Only other explanation is that she forced him to go." He looked pointedly at Sam, and Martin could see the anger in his eyes. "But that doesn't sound like Danny either."

Martin only partially agreed. Danny wasn't one to be pushed around, but something about Molly made him act differently. Martin had been seeing proof of it all day. Danny could deny it all he wanted, but there was definitely something there. Martin got the feeling that Danny would have done anything Molly asked.

He sucked in air through his teeth, something he knew Sam hated. "So what do we do?"

"We find them, of course," Jack said, as though it were the most obvious solution in the world.

"What about Kate?" Sam asked.

Jack shrugged again, looking at the others in turn. "I have a feeling that if we find Molly, we'll find Kate."

* * *

Of all the places Danny had expected Molly to need to go, church was not one of them.

Yet here they were, stepping through the ornately carved oak doors of a large and fairly old gothic cathedral. Molly immediately crossed herself upon entering, and Danny raised an eyebrow at the gesture. He would never have believed that she was a religious person; people in the scientific community generally weren't, and given that her favorite book was basically about debunking the myths of Christianity, he'd half expected her to be an atheist.

She really was a walking contradiction.

Danny hated churches. He wasn't a very religious person – if there was a God, He had long since abandoned Danny – and churches had always made him uneasy. This one was no different. He got a chill as soon as he walked into the sanctuary, and he felt like he was disturbing something sacred just by walking down the aisle, but he kept close to Molly. She seemed to know what she was doing.

She went directly to a stand near the altar, where several rows of candles had been set up. A couple of the candles were lit, but most of them weren't. As he watched, Molly picked up a long, thin match, glanced up at the stained glass window directly above the pulpit, and lit the center candle. Then she blew out the match and bowed her head, as though in prayer. Then she sat down in the front pew and stared at the same stained glass window. Danny joined her.

"Jesus praying at Gethsemane," Molly said quietly, nodding her head at the window. "The night before he was crucified."

Danny also looked at the window, and even he had to admit, it was a thing of beauty. Though it probably would have been more so during the day, with light coming through it.

"I come here when I don't think I can handle it anymore," she said, in that same quiet voice, which was barely a whisper, so that Danny had to scoot closer just to hear her. Not that he was complaining. She'd reapplied her perfume before they'd fled the apartment. "I used to go to meetings, but this helps me more, I think."

Danny turned to look at her. _Meetings?_ "Are you in AA?" Danny asked.

She nodded, not looking at him. "It was part of my probation after the DUI, but I never took it seriously until the fire."

Danny shook his head in disbelief. He had never even considered that that was the reason she didn't drink. He was in such a state of shock that his brain barely registered her comment about the fire. "How long have you been sober?"

"Eight and a half years," she said, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She focused her gaze on her feet. "You wake up after five days in a quasi-coma, only to find out that you're responsible for starting a fire because you were stumbling around drunk and accidentally knocked over some candles, then passed out, and you'd start to question the path your life has taken, too." She glanced back up at the window. "That's why I come here. It's a reminder."

She looked beautiful the way she was sitting – angelic, almost. Danny found himself mesmerized just by the sound of her voice, and he got the feeling that this was the most she'd confided in anyone for a long time. "A reminder of what?"

She still didn't look at him, her eyes glued to the image on the stained glass window. "I should have died in that fire. I should have died, but I didn't." She finally turned her eyes to him, and he saw that they were filled with tears. "That's got to count for something, right?"

Against his better judgment, Danny draped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her towards him. She acquiesced willingly, wrapping her own arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. It wasn't until he felt the wet patch on his shirt that he realized she was crying.

* * *

**A/N: In case you couldn't tell, I don't so much like Jack.**

**I don't know how Catholic churches work (I'm United Methodist, we're totally different), but when I was in Paris, the cathedrals were open, and you could just walk in and light a candle and sit and pray, and I really liked that idea. And if that's not how things work here in the States, then just suspend your disbelief momentarily, and go with the flow of the story.**

**I in no way mean any offense towards people with bipolar disorder. Some of my best friends are bipolar, and they are some of the most wonderful people in the world. However, we do know a girl who we think is bipolar and not being treated for it, and she acts much the same way that Kate does, which is kind of the inspiration behind Kate's behavior.**

**I also don't mean any offense towards Irish people. I like the Irish. I am Irish. (Sort of. Scotch-Irish, though I suppose we don't really count, as we're more Scottish than Irish. Whatever.) But like I said, I don't like Jack, so he's going to be a right big prat for pretty much the rest of the story. Let's see how many people he can offend before the fic's over! (Not really.)**

**Mudslides rock, but only if I can't taste the alcohol. I was going to have her making martinis, but I liked the idea of too much vodka.**

**Look for the next chapter to be more Danny/Molly centered, as I'm running out of people they can interview regarding the case. I've been thinking about having them go back to Kate's parents and confronting them with everything they've learned, to see if maybe the parents change their story. But I haven't decided yet.**


	11. Concentration

**A/N: Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. This is all I've managed to get written, and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting much longer without an update, so I posted it as is. I'm waiting for the muse to strike again, which will hopefully be soon, because I know where I'm going but not how to get there. Hence the problem.**

**And thanks mucho much for the continued reviews. You all deserve cookies. :)**

* * *

**30 Hours Missing**

Danny had no idea how long he and Molly sat on that pew, but if the cramping in his back was any indication, it had been a while. He wanted to tell her that they should go – it was getting late – but he didn't want to move her. She had finally stopped crying, and if he didn't know any better, he could have sworn that she had fallen asleep. It felt good, her being in his arms. It felt right – like she was meant to be there. And he wanted to stay there, exactly like that, because he couldn't think of anywhere that they could go. Her apartment would be crawling with cops, and Jack probably would've had the foresight to send cops to Danny's apartment, too, so they couldn't go there. But as much as he wanted to stay there, with her forever in his arms, he knew that they couldn't.

Plus, there was a thin, balding priest who kept giving them the evil eye.

Molly shifted, turning her head to look up at him. "I don't think Father Matthews likes you very much," she said, grinning. "I'm surprised he hasn't wandered over here to lecture us about the evils of temptation, or something."

He smiled back. "I thought you were asleep."

She shook her head, using her hands to push herself into a seated position. "Nah. You make a nice pillow, but this pew's as hard as a rock. One reason I don't like coming to mass." She paused, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, that and I don't like Catholicism." She glanced down at her wrist, but she wasn't wearing a watch. "What time is it?"

He looked at his watch. "A little after 11:00."

She sighed. "Well, I can't go back to my place. Agent Malone is probably lying in wait, just itching to slap some cuffs on me and haul me in for questioning. And I don't think I'd luck out and get Agent Fitzgerald to interrogate me this time."

He bit his lip, thinking it over. He had to take her somewhere. She was exhausted. She'd most likely only gotten four hours of sleep the previous night, and she'd been running around all day, back and forth to the interrogation room, and after everything, she would need a decent night's sleep. And he wanted to give it to her, but he couldn't. "I could take you to my place," he said, knowing as soon as he suggested it that, even if Jack didn't have guys watching his apartment, it wasn't a good idea to take Molly there.

She just looked at him. "You're sweet, but I'm sure Agent Malone's already thought of that."

"I've got to take you somewhere," he said, absentmindedly combing his fingers through her hair. He withdrew his hand the moment she tilted into his touch. "You're dead on your feet."

She smiled. "I'm not on my feet."

He rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "You know what I mean."

"I'm not tired," she said, the last word drawn out as she yawned. "Okay, fine. I'm tired. What do you suggest? My apartment's a no, your place is a definite no…" She trailed off, but then suddenly turned to look at him, grinning mischievously.

"What?" he asked, afraid she was going to suggest they skip town.

She widened her smile. "Ever been to the Waldorf-Astoria?"

* * *

"Check this out," Martin said, walking over to Sam and holding a bank statement printout in front of her face. "Someone just made a withdrawal out of Kate Davidson's bank account."

They were alone in the office. Jack and Vivian had left them to go look for Danny and Molly, with Jack insisting that they continue to go over the records on the off chance that they missed something crucial, or to be at a centralized location in case Danny called to check in. But Sam was having no luck with those phone records that Martin and Viv had so painstakingly gone through earlier that day, and until Martin had rushed over with the bank statement, neither of them had even said a word since Jack and Vivian left.

"How long ago?" Sam asked, unable to focus. She told herself it was because she was tired, and not because Martin was so close. She'd never had problems focusing before.

Okay. That wasn't entirely true. But it had been a while since she'd been unable to concentrate just because of his proximity, and she had actually held out hope that it wasn't going to be a problem again. It was really only problematic after they fought. But she wouldn't let herself believe it was because she missed him.

"About six hours," Martin said, pointing to the timestamp, which was incredibly obvious and she should have noticed. He didn't seem to notice that she hadn't seen it, however, and continued. "And the weird thing is, Kate's got over a thousand dollars in her bank account, and whoever made this withdrawal only took out forty."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "If they knew her pin, they could easily check her balance and clean her out. Why only take forty?"

Martin sat down in a nearby chair and scooted it across the floor so that he was right beside her. "You want to hear my theory?"

She nodded, surprised and pleased that he was being so civil after the argument they'd had after Steve's interrogation. "Always," she said, and he grinned.

"Whoever made this withdrawal painted that message on Molly's wall. She found that, what, around 7:00. The money was taken out of Kate's account two hours before that. Plenty of time to go to the nearest butcher shop and buy a pint of whatever animal's blood was used to paint those words."

"But we still don't know who did that," Sam said. "We still don't have any leads."

Martin shrugged. "How many people do you know who walk into a butcher shop and buy blood? We'll just ask around – places near Molly's apartment. The ATM where the withdrawal was made was only two blocks away."

Sam nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. She glanced up at Martin and saw that his eyes were glued to her lips, but when he saw her looking, he quickly glanced away. She couldn't help but smile. "What about surveillance on that ATM?"

He shook his head. "No good. Whoever made the withdrawal was careful not to look at the camera and was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood up so we can't see his face. Or even tell if it was a man. It could have been a woman." He looked up at her expectantly. "So what do you say? This could be our first major break, you know. Nothing else has panned out."

Sam took a deep breath, glancing around the empty office. "Jack told us to stay here."

"Right," Martin said, to his credit not looking supremely pissed off that she'd mentioned Jack's name, "so that we could find something. Well, we found something."

She glanced down at her hands, playing with her fingers. She wanted to figure out this case, if it was the last thing she ever did, she was going to find out why there were so many dead ends. And she wanted to work with Martin. It seemed like it had been forever since the two of them were together.

She nodded once. "Okay. Let's go."


	12. Lost

**A/N: And here we go! Again, sorry for the amount of time taken to update, but I think y'ins will like what I have for you this evening. It tooka while for the muse to speak, but then I couldn't shut her up.**

**Not liking the rumors I've heard about upcoming episodes. TPTB have some 'splaining to do.**

**I have never been inside the Waldorf or the Sheraton in Baltimore, hence why there is no description of the room. Also, I don't know if 24-hour butcher shops exist, but for the purpose of this story, they do. Humor me.**

**A little note: according to the rating systems for movies, it is acceptable to use the "f" word once and still maintain a PG-13 rating. Using it twice, however, automatically bumps it up to R. I figured fiction ratings would work the same way, so please don't hate on me for use of the word later in this chapter.**

**Keep in mind, parental discretion is advised. You have been warned. (But I still have the rating at T, so you know it can't be all bad.)

* * *

**

31 Hours Missing

They took a cab. There was really no other option. Molly didn't own a car, and they'd left Danny's car parked outside Molly's apartment. Molly was the one who suggested it, actually – leaving the car behind – though Danny would have made the same suggestion eventually. He knew that the first thing Jack would do would be to put out an APB on his car. Danny wondered how long it had taken Jack to figure out that the car was still parked directly outside Molly's building – or if he even had figured it out.

So they went to the Waldorf. Traffic flowed surprisingly well, despite the day and time, and Molly tipped the cab driver an extra twenty to forget he'd ever seen them. Danny couldn't help feeling like he was in some kind of film noir movie, kept picturing the two of them as a modern day Bonnie and Clyde – with the exception that neither of them had done anything wrong. Well, not robbing banks kind of wrong, anyway. Danny knew that Jack still suspected Molly – it was pretty obvious, given his behavior – but no one had spent as much time with Molly as he had, and he could tell that she had nothing to do with this. There was real grief in her eyes, real fear. He'd seen it at her apartment, first thing that morning, after all the cops had left. He'd seen it after she'd discovered the writing on her wall. And he'd seen it at the church.

Molly paid for the room in cash. Danny had made some comment about the amount of cash she carried with her, and she'd told him that she'd cleaned out her emergency stash shortly before leaving.

"They'll trace my credit cards," she said. "They'll pinpoint my location if I make a withdrawal from my account. Luckily I keep that much cash in the apartment, or we'd be up shit creek."

He was impressed. But of course she would know this kind of stuff, working for the CIA.

The room was huge – probably twice the size of Danny's apartment. He'd never been inside the Waldorf, and now he knew why. It probably cost an entire week's pay just to pay for the room. Molly didn't seem to mind, handed the receptionist the money like it was no big deal, and didn't seem all that impressed by the room.

"I've seen better," she said, with an air of nonchalance that surprised Danny even more. He'd been inside her apartment, and considering that both her and her roommate came from money, it wasn't very impressive.

"When have you seen better?" he asked, trying to sound flippant and casual and hoping he succeeded.

She smiled. "Well, I was mighty impressed with the Sheraton down in Baltimore," she said. "I had to go there for an 'emergency summit'." She used air quotes to emphasize how ridiculous she obviously found the idea. "All on the agency's dime, of course."

"Of course," Danny said, nodding.

She must have caught the disbelieving tone in his voice, because she narrowed her eyes. "Look, my parents were rich, not me, okay? I make decent money doing what I do, but most of it goes other places." She leaned against the counter in the kitchenette area, and if he shifted just so, he could see right down her shirt. "But when I indulge, you better believe I do it right."

He locked eyes with her then, and what he saw there convinced him that he hadn't misinterpreted the abrupt change in her voice. What just seconds ago had been angry and hurt turned so suddenly into husky and throaty that he thought he had misheard her. But the look she was giving him left little room for misinterpretations. She was still leaning on the counter, her arms folded in front of her, and she had to know that she was revealing more of her cleavage than necessary, because she was damn near popping out of her shirt – which was saying something, since it wasn't all that low-cut to begin with – and her lips were slightly parted and her pupils had dilated so much that her evergreen eyes were almost obsidian, and he knew that if he didn't get out of that room right then, he would be staying there all night – and not in any kind of platonic sense.

He back across the room, forcing his body to obey his brain's command, because his body – all of his body – wanted to stay and find out just what exactly that look in Molly's eyes would lead to.

"I'd better go," he said, practically stammering, making himself look anywhere other than at her, because he was getting a pretty good view from where he was standing, and the last thing he needed was more temptation. Lord knew he'd had enough of that today. But he was only so strong, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could resist.

"Don't go," Molly said, straightening so fast that he could have sworn he heard her spine snap into place. The throaty, sultry tone had vanished from her voice; she sounded almost panicky.

He dared to look at her again. The dark look of lust hadn't disappeared completely, but her eyes gleamed with unshed tears, and he realized that she was still scared – probably terrified out of her wits, afraid of what may happen if she was left alone. And leaving her alone probably wasn't the best idea – whoever had taken her roommate could very well have been following them all night, may know that Molly was staying in this hotel, and could try and abduct her as well.

But if he stayed…

"I really think I should," he said, but again his voice betrayed him and cracked.

The first tear trickled down Molly's cheeks, and he could already feel his resolve weakening. "Please," she said, and she sounded so scared and vulnerable that all Danny wanted to do was grab her and hold her and tell her that everything was going to be all right.

But he couldn't do that, because he didn't know if everything was going to be all right. The others may very well have already found Kate dead by now – he would have no idea, he'd turned off his phone. And he knew he couldn't hold her, because if he had her in his arms again, looking at him the way she was, his self-control would snap.

"I don't want to be alone," she said, taking a few steps towards him. Danny instinctively backed away, but when his back hit the door he froze. "Please. Don't go."

She held out her hand, and the tears were flowing freely now. "Stay with me."

Danny stared at her for several long seconds, knowing that if he stayed, he could very well lose his job. He was already in hot water for everything else, but he still had a choice. He could leave now and he could salvage what was left of his career or he could stay with Molly and maybe find one shining moment of bliss in an otherwise bleak and empty existence.

He sighed heavily, then reached out and took her hand.

* * *

As it turned out, there was only one butcher shop in the vicinity of Kate and Molly's apartment, which made it pretty easy for Martin and Sam. They'd canvassed the area twice, just to make sure, before parking down the street and making their way into the shop. Conveniently, it was open 24 hours, which Martin jokingly suggested was in case it was 3:00 am and you were jonesing for a ham. Sam had responded with, "I've had weirder cravings," and Martin remembered their undercover venture to the abortion clinic, where she'd "admitted" to being pregnant once before. He'd never bothered to find out if it was true – trying to learn personal information about Sam was like trying to fly by flapping your arms – but there was something about the way she'd said it that made him think that it was.

He let her slide on the comment, thinking that it had probably slipped out unintentionally, the way most of Sam's revelations did, and simply said, "When I pulled all-nighters in college, I used to order meatball subs from the all-night pizza place down the street from my apartment." She looked at him, amused, and he continued. "Always meatball subs. I don't know why. Something about being up at two in the morning and needing meat."

She laughed, and he smiled. He missed her laugh. Things between them had been tenuous ever since their argument on the steps of her apartment building, but she was all her ever thought about. He couldn't imagine his life without her – and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Look, Sam," he said, as she opened the door to the butcher shop, "about this afternoon – "

"Forget it," she said, flashing him a 1000-kilowatt smile. "Let's not even talk about it."

She walked into the shop, but he hung back. "Maybe I want to talk about it," he said, but quietly, so that she couldn't hear him. He wanted to talk this through, he wanted to hash things out, because he didn't want to fight with her anymore. He was already regretting suggesting that they end things, because he didn't want to end things. He never wanted to end things.

But she was already inside, so he walked in and followed her up to the counter, where the clerk was weighing a mound of ground beef. The clerk was an overweight man with male pattern baldness and a five o'clock shadow. Martin furrowed his brow. Why were there always fat guys in butcher shops? It never ceased to amaze him.

"Excuse me, sir," Sam said.

"What can I do for you, honey?" the clerk asked, removing the ground beef from the scale. "I got some nice porterhouses in last night. Grade-A. Top choice."

Sam flashed her badge, and the clerk's demeanor changed instantly. He straightened and took a step back. "I just need some information, actually," said Sam, "pertaining to a missing persons investigation."

The clerk nodded knowingly. "The girl from four blocks over, right?" he asked. But he didn't wait for a response before continuing. "Shame about that."

Martin joined Sam at the counter. "Do you know her?"

He shook his head. "Nah. But the roommate comes in all the time. Nice girl. She doesn't deserve to go through this."

"We need to ask you some questions," Sam said.

The clerk nodded again. "Anything I can do to help."

Sam smiled – her work smile. Martin had learned to tell the difference between all of her smiles. She had about five different ones, but there was one that she used with him and only him. But this smile was the one she reserved for work; it was wide enough to be seen as polite, but it didn't quite meet her eyes, which proved that there was no real emotion behind it. "Thank you," she said, and Martin remembered the purpose behind being in a 24-hour butcher shop at midnight. "Do you remember anyone that came in here between 5:00 and 7:00 pm and bought some kind of blood?"

The clerk made a noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, yeah. Hard to forget something like that. Girl comes in and buys two pints of pig's blood. Don't get many requests for pig's blood nowadays."

Sam looked at Martin, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. A girl had bought the blood? That meant that a girl had painted that message on Molly's wall. A girl was responsible for everything.

"This girl," said Martin, "do you remember what she looked like?"

"Yeah," the clerk said, nodding again. "Like I said, hard to forget something like that. Besides, I usually remember a pretty girl." He paused, looking off at something in the distance, as though trying to picture her. "She wasn't all that tall," he said, holding his hand out to his shoulder, "probably came to about here on me. She was skinny and blonde, and she had the most amazing blue eyes."

Martin glanced at Sam, who was hurriedly writing everything down. As long as she was, then he didn't have to. "Anything else?" she asked.

"Yeah. She had a mole – a beauty mark, whatever – by her mouth. Like Cindy Crawford."

Sam thanked the man and turned, jerking her head towards the door, indicating that they should leave. Martin offered the clerk a wave as a goodbye and followed Sam out the door, eager to share his opinion with her.

"Think it was one of the sorority sisters?" he asked as they made their way back to the car.

Sam sighed and shook her head. "I really don't know. Judging from my conversation with them earlier, Kate wasn't very popular in the chapter, but I really think that someone is out to get Molly, and I don't think any of the girls in the house would want to do that."

Martin nodded, following her same train of thought. He no longer believed that Molly was behind this, not after hearing Sam's account of her "interviews" with the three sorority sisters, not after learning that the article that Kate was supposedly working on was actually Molly's senior thesis. But there were still so many unanswered questions. "Well," he said, as they reached the car, "at least we know we're looking for a woman. That narrows our suspect list by about half."

"Great," Sam said, playfully rolling her eyes the way she always did when they disagreed, "so now we're only looking at four million people instead of eight million. Way to be optimistic, Martin."

He grinned and slid into the driver's seat, but she paused just before climbing into the car. "Sam? Something wrong?"

Sam squinted at something across the street and down the block, and Martin got out of the car so that he could have a better view of what she was looking at. "Isn't that Danny's car?"

Martin looked and saw that it was, indeed, Danny's car. "Jack put out an APB on it right after they disappeared," Martin said with a shrug. "Looks like we found it."

Sam shook her head in disbelief. "But, that's where it was parked earlier. I mean, that's Molly and Kate's apartment building. The car obviously hasn't moved all night."

Martin turned to look at her. "Then where the hell are they?"

* * *

Danny knew he had surrendered to some force bigger than he and Molly. It was fate, really, and their fates intertwined together, that made it practically impossible for him to set foot outside of that door that he was now leaning against. Something was telling him to go – probably his good sense – but another, much larger portion of his brain was telling him that it had been a long time – a very long time – since he had felt this way about someone. His outstretched hand still had a tight grip on Molly's, but she wasn't complaining. She wasn't saying much of anything – neither of them were. They just stared at each other.

The regular lustful urges were there – the desire to touch, to feel, to taste. He recognized those. He'd never been in love before, so he didn't know what it felt like, but he imagined it felt something like the way he was feeling now – this all-consuming need to crawl inside of her, this unfamiliar ache in his chest.

But it couldn't be love – it just couldn't. After all, he barely knew her. He'd known her less than twenty-four hours. But he knew her favorite book, and her favorite movie and color, and that she cooked when she was stressed out, and when she was nervous she chewed on her bottom lip, and she'd had trouble trusting people after her parents died, and when he was around her he could feel the air between them crackle with some kind of electricity, and she didn't have to be touching him for him to feel her fingers on his skin.

Then, with one tug on her arm, he brought her flush against him, their faces just inches apart. He could feel a change in the atmosphere almost instantly – it became charged with something he was afraid to put a name to.

"We don't have to…" Molly said, but her voice died in her throat as he combed his fingers through her hair.

For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the sound of their labored breathing, until Molly tried again. "We can just talk," she said, her words ending on a sigh as Danny curled one hand around the nape of her neck, just under her hair. But he could tell from the look in her eyes that she didn't want to just talk any more than he did.

So they continued to stare at each other, both seemingly unwilling to be the one to make the first move. Because once that line was crossed, there was no going back, and although the results would be fireworks, the consequences could be disastrous.

She parted her lips slightly, and he licked his in anticipation. With his free hand, he reached up and lightly ran the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip.

Finally, Molly said, "Fuck it," and grabbed Danny by the lapel of his jacket.

As soon as his lips touched hers, he was lost.

* * *

Jack was at his wits' end. A small part of him had realized that trying to track down Danny would be pointless, because Danny was smart enough not to do what was expected of him, and Jack was fast realizing that he didn't know as much about his team as he liked to think. Like the fact that Martin and Sam had been sleeping together for who knew how many months. Or the fact that something was seriously wrong with Viv, and she just didn't feel like sharing.

He could tell, now, that there was something going on. They'd been driving around for about two hours, and every now and then she was gasp and clutch her chest. He got the distinct feeling that she was only doing so because she thought he couldn't see her doing it. But she wasn't saying anything, and he wasn't exactly sure how to bring it up. How would he broach a subject like that, anyway? _Hey, Viv, couldn't help but notice that you look like death. What's up with that?_

And at the moment, he was obsessed with finding Molly and Danny, convinced that Molly had orchestrated this entire thing, for as yet unknown reasons, to get some kind of revenge on her poor, misguided roommate. It didn't matter that there was no motive and no concrete evidence linking Molly to the crime. She did it. He knew that she had.

Vivian's cell phone rang while they were stopped at a red light, and her conversation with the person on the other end was brief. "Johnson," she said. "Are you sure? Okay. No, just start asking around. I know it's late. Do what you can."

When she hung up, she turned to him. "That was Sam. They found the guy who sold the blood, and he said that some blonde girl with a beauty mark was at the shop around 6:30 and bought two pints of pig's blood."

Jack nodded thoughtfully, stepping on the gas as soon as the light turned green, and accelerating so quickly that both he and Viv were pushed back against the seats. "Could be Molly wearing a disguise," he said.

Viv shook her head. "They also found Danny's car."

Jack slammed on the brakes, causing the two of them to fall forward. Jack nearly bumped his head on the steering wheel, and Vivian winced as the seatbelt cut into her chest. He whirled to face her. "Where did they find it?"

She just looked at him. "Outside Molly's apartment building. It's been parked there all night, Jack They never took it. They could be anywhere by now."

* * *

Danny was in heaven. There was no other way to describe it. Kissing Molly was…unreal – unlike anything else he'd ever experienced. He'd been with his fair share of women, but it was safe to say that none of them had ever done to him what Molly was doing to him. He was vaguely aware that his name was Danny, and that he was in a suite at the Waldorf, but other than that, he was only aware of Molly and everything about Molly, from the way she still smelled faintly of vanilla to how soft her hair felt underneath his fingers to the way she was devouring him as if he were her last meal.

He was so intent on the way her mouth was moving over his that he didn't even realize she had begun to attack the buttons on his shirt. She didn't seem to be capable of unbuttoning them in the state that she was in, and with a growl of frustration, she tugged at both side, sending buttons flying everywhere. Unwilling to lose contact, he let go of her one arm at a time, shaking each one free of its offending sleeve, only to put them right back where they had been.

Only now that wasn't enough. He slid his hands underneath the hem of her shirt and in one swift movement had yanked it over her head. And he trailed kissed down her throat and greedily ran his hands down her sides.

He could barely breathe. He didn't even want to. Oxygen be damned. He didn't need it. He only needed her.

They didn't even make it to the bed.


	13. Dark

**35.5 Hours Missing**

The phone woke him up.

It was one of those annoying rings that seem to ring really loudly, and if he hadn't been so tired and groggy, he probably would have realized that the phone was ringing sooner, but even though that damn phone was severely pissing him off, he was content to just let it ring. Because, at the moment, he was pinned beneath the warm, soft, naked, decidedly feminine body of the most amazing woman in the world, and even if he had been capable of moving, he didn't want to. And eventually, the ringing stopped.

But it rang again, just seconds later, and the noise caused Molly to stir. She didn't wake up completely – just enough to roll onto her side and off Danny's chest. With her no longer on top of him, he had no excuse not to answer that stupid phone. He crawled to the edge of the bed and fumbled in the dark for his cell.

He answered it with a, "Taylor," but was met with nothing but silence. In fact, the phone continued to ring.

And that's when he remembered that he had turned his phone off, so that Jack and the others wouldn't be able to get in contact with him or trace him via the GPS. The ringing was coming from Molly's cell, which was on the other side of the room.

Danny gave serious thought to answering her phone, just to stop that infernal ringing. But he ultimately decided against it, because he had no idea who was calling her – although to call in the middle of the night, it must have been important – and it could have been her boss or worse – his boss. It wouldn't have taken Jack long to find Molly's phone number. Danny was half surprised Jack hadn't considered that before. So instead, Danny got up, padded across the room to the coffee table, picked up Molly's phone, and stumbled back to the bed. And again, it stopped ringing.

He was about to hurl it across the room in frustration when it came alive in his hand, ringing and vibrating. He collapsed on the edge of the bed and gently shook Molly.

"Molly. Wake up."

She groaned and curled herself into a ball, mumbling something that sounded like, "The math test isn't until next week, leave me alone."

He shook her again, more firmly this time. "Molly. Answer your phone. It's pissing me off."

She opened her eyes, blinking several times, and slowly propped herself up on one elbow. "It's probably someone drunk dialing me. Just toss it and come back to bed."

He was sorely tempted, but that ring was grating on his last nerve. He would never be able to block it out and get back to sleep. He held the phone out to her. "It's rung three times. It could be important."

She groaned again, much more loudly, and took the phone. She flipped it up and answered it with, "You better have a damn good reason for waking me up at four-thirty in the morning."

Her face immediately paled. "Kate?" She sat up, hugging the sheet to her chest. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

Danny strained to hear the voice on the other end, but he couldn't hear a thing. He was able to infer most of the conversation from Molly's responses, though. And it didn't sound good.

"Can you see anything? Do you have any idea where you are? No, stay there and don't panic. I will come for you, okay? I will come for you."

She hung up and buried her face in her hands. Danny could hear her taking several deep breaths and was about to put his arm around her when she suddenly dropped her hands and looked at him, her eyes hard as steel. "Get your gun," she said. She slid out of bed and immediately began retrieving her clothes. "And call your boss."

Danny blinked, not quite sure if he'd heard her correctly. "Are you sure that's a good idea? What if these people do something to hurt her?"

Molly shook her head as she crouched low to the floor. She crawled under the bed and emerged seconds later with one of her socks. "They won't."

Danny sighed, but set about getting dressed as well. He found his pants dangling from the chandelier and was amazed at where clothes ended up when you were so intent on taking them off that you didn't notice where you threw them. "How do you know?"

"Because," Molly said, yanking her shirt off the bedside lamp, "if they were going to hurt her, they would have done it by now, and don't you think it's a little weird that she managed to get to a phone?"

He zipped his pants and turned to look at her. "You think it's a trap?"

She shot him a look and said nothing.

He walked over to the dresser and picked up his phone. "Do you even know where she is?"

Molly jammed her right foot into her shoe and sighed. "I can find out. Toss me my phone, will you?"

Danny did as she instructed and watched her as she dialed. "Good morning, Dave," she said into the phone. "I need you to do something for me. Yeah, I know, it's early, but trust me, this is important. I need you to do a trace on the last number that called my phone. Thanks." She cradled the phone between her head and her shoulder and tied her shoes. She glanced at him. "Shouldn't you be dialing?"

He rolled his eyes and started to punch in Jack's number, but changed his mind at the last second and dialed Martin's.

* * *

Martin hurt. Muscles he didn't even know he had were sore, and he couldn't figure out why, until he opened his eyes and realized that he'd fallen asleep on one of the couches in the waiting room – not the most comfortable piece of furniture he'd ever slept on. He rolled onto his side and winced as a stabbing pain shot through his legs, which had evidently fallen asleep, since he was too tall to fit on the couch. He glanced at the couch across from him and saw that Sam was snuggled under his jacket. As the events of the previous night came back to him, he shook his head in a vain attempt to alleviate his bleariness, wondering what had woken him.

He found Jack standing at one end of the couch, staring at him with one eyebrow raised. "Good morning, Sunshine," Jack said.

Martin groaned and tried to sit up, pins and needles in every major extremity. "What time is it?"

"Around quarter till five," said Jack, moving over to the wall and flipping the light switch. The sudden brightness made Martin's head pound, and he was looking forward to solving this case and sleeping all day. But when he saw the look on Jack's face, he knew that wasn't going to happen. "I sent Viv home. She didn't look too good."

Martin squinted. "You noticed that, too, huh?" He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Did you get any sleep?"

Jack shook his head. "No. You?"

"Not enough," Martin said, swinging his legs off the couch and attempting to stand. "After the butcher shop, Sam and I came back here, tried to do a little background research on all the women in Molly and Kate's lives. No luck." Martin punctuated his statement with a yawn that he couldn't quite contain and glanced at Jack. "Did you find Danny?"

"No," Jack said with a sigh. "This girl's smart. She hasn't made any ATM withdrawals or used her credit card, so we have no way of tracking her, short of knocking on every door in the city."

Martin shrugged. "Starting to sound like a viable option."

Suddenly, Martin's phone rang. He reached across the arm of the couch to retrieve it. "Fitzgerald."

"Hey, Marty."

"Danny," Martin said, quickly glancing at Jack. "Where the hell have you been, man?"

"Not important. Look, we need backup. We think we know where they're holding Kate. Can you meet us there?"

Martin yawned again, surprised that Jack hadn't ripped the phone out of his hands in order to tear Danny a new one. "I'll see what I can do. Where?"

"Saint Bart's on West 13th."

"Okay, I'll tell – " But Danny had hung up.

* * *

**36.5 Hours Missing**

Saint Bartholomew's on West 13th Street was a fire hazard – a decrepit, rundown building with half the ceiling missing. Most of the outside was obscured by scaffolding, and it was enclosed in a perimeter of yellow police tape.

"What happened?" Danny asked. He and Molly stood outside the tape, guns drawn. At first, Danny had been surprised to learn that Molly even carried a gun, but she'd explained to him that all agents were required to have one. She just didn't keep it with her because she never went out into the field.

"Fire," said Molly. "It burned down about eight years ago, and the city hasn't been able to raise the funds to rebuild it." She lifted the tape and crossed under it, holding it up for Danny. "Come on."

He shook his head. "I think we should wait for backup."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Fine. You wait. I'm going inside."

He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. "That's not a good idea."

She looked at him, her green eyes sad, and said, "I know. But if Kate's in trouble, and it's my fault, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to her." She sighed. "I just want this to be over."

Danny pursed his lips. "All right. But I'm coming with you. And if we die, I'm totally blaming you."

Molly grinned and winked at him, and the two of them carefully picked their way through the debris to the church doors. Danny gently pushed the doors, hoping for a quiet entrance, but the rusted hinges gave way, and the entire door crashed to the floor with a resounding thud that echoed through the building. He shrugged apologetically, but Molly was already inching her way into the sanctuary, gun leading. She disappeared behind a corner, and Danny followed quickly after.

But when he rounded the corner, Molly wasn't there. He barely had a chance to register that fact when everything went dark.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry to leave you guys with such a cliffhanger! And unfortunately it's going to drive you all nuts for at least two weeks, because I've been summoned to jury duty. Blah. I will be writing while I'm sequestered in the hotel, but I won't have computer access, so I'll be unable to post. Hopefully I'll be able to come home, type what I've written, and get it all posted. I'll probably be bored out of my skull while I'm there.**

**Only been to NYC once. Don't sweat the details.**

**I hate drunk dialers. One time this guy kept calling my roommate at like 2 in the morning, and she wasn't even there. I stopped answering the phone after 4 times.**


	14. Mistake

**A/N: And I'm back! **

**I didn't get the story finished, as I'd hoped, but I'm almost there! (I was also working on one of my "Enterprise" fics, plus I had about half a dozen books to page through -_Princess Diaries: Princess in Pink_ is a good read, for any fans of the series.)For your reading pleasure, I present chapter 14. Chapter 15 - tentatively titled "Over" - will be posted tomorrow, to give me time to finish chapter 16, which I hope to have doneand up by Monday at the latest. After chapter 16 there will be one more chapter and perhaps a short epilogue, and then the story is, sadly, concluded. (However, I do have plans to do a follow-up - probably after a short break from writing.)**

**Hopefully, this chapter will appease those of you who commented that Danny and Molly should have talked about what happened. Just so you know, I had that chapter written a few different ways, and kind of liked it the way that it was. But I understand why people would want that, andI had no intentions of ignoring what happened or letting it drop - it would just come up later.**

**I know nothing about the FBI or the CIA.Nor have I ever been in a hostage situation. I just write.**

**I heart you guys and your continued reviews! The response to this story gives me warm fuzzies every time I check my email and see that someone else has posted! I hope this doesn't disappoint and that it was worth the wait!**

**P.S. What was up with last night's episode? My mom and I were so confused.

* * *

38 Hours Missing**

By the time Jack arrived at the address Danny had given Martin, there were already at least a dozen agents wandering around. According to their jackets, they were CIA, and Jack figured that Molly must have called her superiors around the same time that Danny had, for the added insurance, even though – as a missing persons case – it fell under FBI jurisdiction.

But the additional agents meant one thing for certain – Jack wouldn't be able to kill Danny in front of all those witnesses.

And kill him he would, because Danny had finally lost it.

Jack walked over to the nearest agent, flashed his badge, and asked to speak to the guy in charge. The agent directed him to Special Agent David Markum, who was currently using the hood of a car as a desk and scanning a set of blueprints – presumably of the church. He looked up when Jack approached.

"Special Agent Malone?" David asked, holding out his hand for Jack to shake. "I'm Special Agent Markum. I know this case is FBI jurisdiction, missing persons and all, but I had to bring in some of my people. Can't afford to lose Agent Sheehan."

Jack raised his eyebrows. He knew, of course, that Molly was CIA, but the way David was talking, it sounded like she was the one who'd been kidnapped. "You know something that I don't, Agent Markum?"

David sighed and nodded. "Molly called in earlier this morning, asking to do a trace on her phone. She told us there might be a possible hostage situation, and unfortunately, she's one of the hostages."

Jack's stomach dropped to his knees. He had a very bad feeling about this. "And the other hostages?"

"Only one other," David said, arching an eyebrow. "And that's where you come in."

* * *

**39 Hours Missing**

When Danny came to, he was tied to a chair, his head felt like the percussion section of the Boston Philharmonic, and there was light filtering through the grungy stained glass windows of Saint Bartholomew's. He shook his head in an effort to clear the cobwebs and immediately regretted doing so, because the orchestra swelled and added a timpani solo. He closed his eyes against the pain but colored dots flashed repeatedly behind his lids, and he was positive that he was going to vomit.

He was unpleasantly reminded of his sophomore year of college.

His first coherent thought not about the pain in his head or puking was about Molly. Where was she? What had happened to her? He remembered walking into the sanctuary, following her, and then nothing. If anything had happened to her, he would never forgive himself. Yes, he said that he'd blame her, but he had only been joking, and he should have tried harder to keep her out of this building. He could have used force. He was bigger than her, after all. He slowly turned his head to look around and saw her not five feet from him, also bound to a chair. She was awake, straining against the ropes that held her, he assumed, testing their strength. She seemed unharmed.

"Molly?" he asked, unable to believe his own eyes, needing to hear her voice in order to confirm that, yes, she was okay. She glanced at him, and the pained look on her face dissolved instantly into a relieved smile.

"Oh, thank God," she said. "I was beginning to think she'd killed you." She scooted her chair a few inches towards him. "You were out for so long, and I couldn't see you breathing but I was obviously just paranoid, because you're awake now and obviously you're breathing – "

"I'm okay," he said, which was a flat-out lie. Tied to a chair was generally not considered "okay", but he had to say something to her. And he wished more than anything that he could hold her, because she looked as though she was about to burst into tears. "I'm okay."

That's when he saw that she had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks were tearstained, and she looked so thoroughly miserable that Danny's heart broke just at the sight of her. She looked down at her lap, then up at the ceiling, and sighed. "God, this was a mistake."

If Danny's heart hadn't already been broken, that would have done it. Was she saying what it sounded like she was saying? They hadn't gotten a chance to talk after…afterwards, and there was so much he wanted to say to her – how they had so much in common that it was uncanny, how he'd never felt about anyone the way he felt about her – but if she was regretting what had happened between them, he wasn't about to open his big fat mouth and insert his foot into it, because he wasn't sure his heart could take much more damage.

Call him a masochist, but he had to know. "What was a mistake?"

She shot him an odd look, as though the answer should have been obvious. "Coming in here without backup. What did you think I meant?"

He didn't say anything, but he thought his heart might burst from pure joy. He wasn't sure how much more he could stand before it gave up completely and he just keeled over.

She must have seen the look on his face, because she said, "Did you think I…? No, no, of course not. I would never…" She trailed off with yet another heavy sigh and attempted to scoot closer but gave up after a futile effort. "Look, this probably isn't the best time to talk about this, but I might not get this opportunity again and I…" She trailed off again, shaking her head. "There's something about you, Agent Taylor." She laughed nervously, but it was still the most beautiful sound in the world. "I don't know what it is, but I know a good thing when I see one." She met his gaze, and the look that had been in her eyes at the hotel was back with friends. "I don't intend to let it go, and as soon as this whole mess is over, I say we find the nearest bed and not get out of it for at least a week."

Danny's mouth went dry just at the thought. She'd painted a pretty enticing picture. He'd certainly have time on his hands, as he was most likely fired – but he chose not to say that. He smiled. "You got a deal." He managed to move closer by hopping in his chair, and he refused to break eye contact, because he didn't want to not be looking at those beautiful green eyes. "And you can call me Danny, you know."

She grinned. "Ah, but it's so much more fun to call you Agent Taylor." They shared a profound moment of silence before Molly resumed her struggle against her restraints. "Can you get your hands free at all? I've been trying for damn near an hour and all I got is rope burn. And not the good kind."

Trying not to think of what the "good kind" of rope burn might mean, Danny tested the ropes around his wrists, but whoever had attacked them seemed to know what they were doing, because the knots held tight. And then something Molly had said earlier came back to him. "Wait, did you see who attacked us?"

Molly ran her tongue along the edge of her upper teeth and didn't quite meet his eye. "Not exactly."

He looked up at her. He'd been in enough interrogations to know prevaricating when he heard it. "What do you mean, 'not exactly'?"

There was a noise behind him, but he wasn't able to turn around to see. The best he could do was pivot at his waist and look out the corner of his eye. And in his peripheral vision he saw a young woman walking towards them. She was tall and blonde and vaguely familiar.

"What she means," the woman said, and her voice was cold and cruel, "is that she already knew it was me."

* * *

Sam was scared. She hated hostage situations – they always turned out badly – and though she was slightly pacified by the knowledge that she ran little risk of being shot this time, it was still upsetting to know that Danny could very well be in mortal danger, and they were stuck on the other side of a flimsy barrier of yellow police tape. 

Jack had explained the situation to them as soon as they'd arrived – Sam and Martin were late because they'd gone to pick up Vivian, who had not seemed thrilled at the idea of being awakened after so little sleep, but had sobered immediately after learning that Danny was being held hostage in the remains of a Catholic church. They still had no idea who was holding Danny and Molly hostage, but as there was no sign of anyone else, they had probably been lured into a trap with the promise of setting Kate free.

Sam blamed Molly for their predicament. Though she knew nothing of how they had ended up as hostages, it surely had something to do with her, because she had probably thrown caution to the wind and run blindly after her roommate with no thought for the consequences. And as a result, she had not only wound up in danger but dragged Danny there as well. And now something very bad could be happening to Danny, and there was nothing Sam could do about it. And she couldn't stand the thought of standing idly by while something happened to one of her closest – hell, one of her only – friends.

The situation had done one positive thing, though. It made her realize that her fight with Martin was ridiculous, that she cared for him very deeply – maybe even loved him – and that if she waited much longer to let people know they were together, she might lose him forever. It was quite obvious to her now, as it should have been long before, that life didn't last forever, and she should take advantage of the happiness that she felt now before it was too late.

* * *

The woman stopped beside Danny's chair and he finally got a good look at her. He recognized her instantly from the multitude of pictures he had seen of her earlier that day, though she looked completely different sober, and a part of him didn't want to believe what he was seeing. 

"Kate?" he asked. A glance at Molly confirmed his suspicions – she looked ready to spit nails – and his head started spinning again. "But how – "

"How'd she know it was me?" Kate asked, walking over to Molly's chair. She placed one foot on the seat, right by Molly's left knee, and pushed the chair several feet away, back to Molly's original position. "That's a good question, actually. I'd kind of like to know the answer to that myself." She crouched in front of Molly, bracing her hands on either side of Molly's legs. "When did you figure it out? Before or after I called?"

Danny had never seen green eyes look so cold, but Molly's stare was one of steel. He half expected daggers to come flying out of her eyes. "You sound like you should be on _Mission: Impossible_," said Molly, in a voice to match her glare. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

Kate's laugh was entirely without mirth. "I asked you first."

Molly gritted her teeth so hard that Danny heard it from several feet away. "I suspected," Molly said through her clenched teeth, "but I didn't know for certain until I found out where you calling from."

"Should have known," Kate said. She stood up and walked over to Danny, and he found himself unable to look away. "Did she tell you what happened to this place?" she asked him, gesturing with one hand at the ruins around them.

He bit the inside of his cheek in an effort not to spit in Kate's face. "There was a fire."

Kate laughed again, and Danny was pleased to see that she wasn't armed, because a psycho with a gun was never a good combination. But she would have access to weapons, because he and Molly both had their weapons when they entered, and obviously they didn't have them now. "Did she tell you how the fire started?"

"Kate," said Molly, and though her voice was still cold, Danny could detect the trace hint of fear belying all the anger, "why are you doing this?"

"Shut up," Kate said – though snarled would have been a more accurate term. She drew back and smacked Molly across the face, then turned back to Danny. He immediately began to struggle against his ropes again. "She did it. She's the one that burned this place down. But I bet she didn't tell you that."


	15. Helpless

**A/N: Okay, I'm glad that I said "tentatively titled" when referring to this chapter, because I mixed up chapters 15 and 16 in my head. Chapter 16 is the one that's called "Over", and as I said before, that will hopefully be up by Monday.**

**This chapter is for my fellow MS shippers! By the way, my CBS station preempted the April 28 episode because the stupid president needed to give a press conference and heaven forbid we push back the news -- what happened?**

**P.S. Now that everyone knows who's behind it, I'd like to apologize to my friend Katie Davidson, for using her name to make one of my characters a psychopath. Katie D is one of the nicest people in the world, and definitely not a psychopath, and in the event that she ever reads this, I don't want her to think that I think about her like that. But she did give me permission to use her name should I ever get a book or screenplay published, and thinking up names for characters is not my strong point.**

* * *

"It was an accident," Molly said, still struggling against her restraints. "It was an accident, and you know it."

"Yes, yes, I know," Kate said, sounding bored and feigning a yawn. "Stumbling around drunk and blah, blah, blah." She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "God, you'd think a genius would be able to come up with a better cover story than that."

Molly's eyes were fire. Danny half expected his ropes to burst into flame. "It's not a cover story, Katherine," said Molly, "and you know it isn't." She looked at Danny, and her eyes softened immediately. "I don't even remember why we were here," she said, to him, as though she needed to convince him that she was telling the truth. She really needn't bother. He would never believe the psychopath that had him tied up over her. "I don't remember anything about that night. And then five days later I woke up in the hospital, and I haven't had a drink since."

She'd mentioned the fire, back at the church, and he suddenly realized why churches meant so much to her. It wasn't just acknowledging some higher power that she should have died and didn't. She was attempting to atone for accidentally incinerating a house of God. Presumably. There was no way he'd ever know for certain – unless he asked her, of course. And he could never hold something like that against her, because he'd done many things he wasn't proud of while drunk.

"Perfect Molly," Kate said, and Danny winced at the coldness of her voice. _Bitter much?_ he thought. "Everyone loves Molly. Burns down a church and gets off scot-free."

"Scot-free?" Molly asked. "You call four months in juvie, two hundred hours of community service, and a five thousand dollar fine scot-free?" She dug her heels into the floor and pushed her chair back, towards a pile of rubble. "That one stupid mistake almost cost me my entire damn future, and you're acting like all I got was a reprimand."

Kate lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Well, you pled diminished capacity. And your parents were rich. So the jury took it easy on you."

"You never answered my question," Molly said, sliding her chair back another couple of inches. Danny leaned to the side, trying to get a look at the pile of rubble, wondering what in the hell Molly was trying to accomplish. "Why are you doing this?"

"You stole my life," Kate said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, and everyone should have arrived at that conclusion ages ago.

Molly looked, if possible, more confused than ever as she tilted her chair onto its back legs. "In what way did I steal your life?"

Kate sputtered incoherently for a few moments, not seeming to notice what Molly was doing. Danny raised his eyebrows. What was Molly doing? It looked as though she was trying to grab something from the pile of rubble. "Okay," Kate said, "so maybe you didn't really steal my life, but you got the life that I should have gotten. Perfect parents, perfect job, perfect everything."

Molly's chair dropped back onto all four legs with a bang. "My parents are dead, my job isn't all that much of a picnic, and my life basically sucks. What do I have that you could possibly want?"

Kate screamed in frustration and stormed over to Molly, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back so forcibly that Danny's neck got sore. "Every one of my boyfriends has liked you better than me. They don't say it, but I know it. I know lust when I see it, and the way they looked at you…" She trailed off, then let go of Molly's hair. "When I met Steve, I thought it was different. But you got to him, too."

There were tears in Molly's eyes, but whether it was from the pain or the situation, Danny had no idea. "I don't know what you're talking about," Molly said.

"Don't lie to me!" Kate wandered away, momentarily out of Danny's line of sight, and returned with a gun that Danny recognized as his own. "I know he was cheating on me!"

Molly stared at the gun with wide eyes and followed its every movement as Kate gestured frantically. "If he was cheating, it wasn't with me."

Kate pressed the barrel of the gun directly between Molly's eyes. "Don't lie to me."

Molly was breathing heavily now, obviously trying to stay calm, and with Kate's attention diverted, Danny renewed his attempts to loosen the ropes binding him to the chair. If anything, he had to get free so he could help Molly – Kate was obviously unhinged and wasn't going to listen to reason, and Danny was afraid that she would actually pull that trigger. He'd just found Molly, and he wasn't about to lose her. Not like this. He deserved the chance to screw things up with her irrevocably.

"This may surprise you," Molly said, in a voice of forced calm, "but this isn't the first time there's been a gun to my head."

Kate laughed again, and Danny couldn't help but notice that this one sounded a little more maniacal than the others. "Right, because you're in the CIA. The CIA! Were you ever going to tell me? Or am I not important enough to know?"

Danny craned to look over his shoulder, searching for something – anything – that could remove his restraints. But there wasn't anything nearby, and he wasn't sure if he could sneak over to the nearest pile of rubble to look without attracting Kate's attention.

"I was trying to protect you," Molly said, but her statement was interrupted with another bout of crazed laughter from Kate.

"Bullshit! If you were lying about your job, what else are you lying about?"

Kate cocked the gun, and Danny looked up. But Molly seemed remarkably composed for someone who had a gun pointed at her head. She blinked dolefully, then jumped – still tied to the chair, using her feet to push off. When she landed, the bar between the chair's legs broke in half, freeing her feet. She kicked Kate in the stomach, and when Kate stumbled backwards, she kicked the gun out of her hands.

That's when Danny saw what Molly had been doing earlier. She'd managed to procure a particularly ragged piece of glass from the pile of rubble and had been hacking at the ropes binding her wrists together. She tossed the remains of the ropes aside and rushed to free Danny.

But Kate had regained her balance and recovered the gun. She ran over and punched Molly in the face. Molly staggered away, dropping the piece of glass in the process – just out of Danny's reach. He tried to get closer, the way Molly had done, but he wasn't able to move very far.

Meanwhile, Molly and Kate continued to have it out. Kate leveled the gun at Molly's face, but Molly again sent it flying away with a well-aimed tornado kick. When Kate ran at her, arms swinging, Molly ducked down and did a sweeping kick that knocked Kate flat on her back. As Kate got to her feet, Molly did a back handspring and got clear.

"Why does everyone like you better than me?" Kate asked, sounding very much like a whiny teenager.

Molly gave an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know. Because you're psychotic?"

Kate lunged, swinging her fist at Molly's face. But Molly ducked and landed a right jab in Kate's abdomen. Kate brought her arms together from elbow to wrist and thumped Molly hard in the back with her elbows. "I am not psychotic!"

Molly went into a handstand, catching Kate's head between her thighs, then pushed herself off, bringing them both to the floor, with Molly straddling Kate. "You orchestrated your own kidnapping because you think I'm sleeping with your boyfriend." She slammed the heel of her hand into Kate's nose. "That's psychotic."

Kate surged forward and bit Molly's arm. Molly screamed in pain and rolled off Kate, quickly getting to her feet and getting out of range. Kate spit onto the floor and stood. "It isn't just about Steve."

Molly rubbed her arm where Kate had bitten her. "Enlighten me."

The girls circled each other, and Kate shook her head. "Miss High and Mighty, thinks she's better than everyone. Better than me. You're not better than me!"

Molly rolled her eyes. "I don't think I'm better than anyone!"

Kate screamed and ran at Molly, who nailed her right in the jaw with a left hook. Kate fell back, rubbing her jaw gingerly. She waited a few moments, probably hoping to catch Molly off guard, and then attacked again. But Molly was ready, and flipped Kate over her head. Kate landed several feet away, unfortunately close to Molly's discarded gun. Kate groped for it.

Danny saw, and he immediately stopped his efforts to grab the piece of glass. He saw Kate finally close her fingers around the gun and aim it at Molly.

"Molly! Look out!"

Molly didn't bother to look to see what he was talking about. She dove behind a pew and took cover just as Kate swung the gun around to fire.

* * *

Martin's first instinct was to jump over the police tape and race inside the church, but he knew that it wouldn't accomplish anything. Still, he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, anxious to do something. He didn't like feeling helpless, and the CIA wasn't helping matters any. They didn't seem to want to do anything that might jeopardize Molly's safety, seemingly completely forgetting that there was an FBI agent in there, too. 

Sam found him seconds later, gripping his arm so tightly that she cut off the circulation to his hand. "I need to talk to you," she said, her voice a harsh whisper.

He looked at her in shock. Her priorities were really all out of whack, if she wanted to have a conversation about their relationship while Danny was being held hostage by some crazed gunman. "Can it wait?"

She shook her head forcefully. "I don't want to wait any more."

He raised an eyebrow, totally and utterly confused. What the hell was she talking about? He hoped she wasn't going to break things off completely, because that was the sort of thing that could wait. "Um, okay. What do you want to talk about?"

She took his face in her hands and stretched up on her toes until their lips met. He was momentarily surprised, and on instinct started to pull away, but with a sigh of satisfaction, she sank into the kiss, and his arms immediately went around her, pulling her closer. He barely had time to enjoy it before she broke this kiss, pulling away and smiling shyly at him.

Martin licked his lips eagerly. "You know," he said, "I'm the kind of guy who needs to be told stuff more than once."

Sam smiled and shook her head. She pressed her lips against his lightly, barely a brush and not nearly the kind of kiss he wanted. "I love you," she said, so quietly that he almost thought he'd misheard her.

"What?" he asked, just to be sure.

"I love you," she said. "And I've been an idiot, trying to hide it. I don't want to hide it any more."

He couldn't help but smile. In fact, at that moment, he didn't think he was capable of anything other than grinning like an idiot – and it was totally uncalled for, since one of his closest friends was probably fighting for his life – but he couldn't really care less. Because Sam loved him, had kissed him in public, and was admitting her feelings for him in front of witnesses – and Jack – and that was all he needed.

* * *

Molly crawled along the floor until she reached Danny. She picked up the piece of glass and started working on the ropes around his ankles. But Kate was storming around the sanctuary, and Molly abandoned the glass and raced to take cover once more. Before leaving, though, she'd placed the glass in Danny's hands so he could work on his own restraints. She also promised to keep Kate occupied and dropped a lingering kiss on his lips before disappearing into a different part of the church. 

Danny set to work cutting the ropes around his wrist and listening to the pursuit. He couldn't see anything from where he was, but he could hear Kate taunting Molly, searching her out. Molly managed to remain hidden, but Danny was terrified that she wouldn't be able to stay out of sight much longer. There were only so many places she could hide, after all.

"Molly," Kate said, her voice echoing off the walls. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Kate appeared from behind a pile of rubble off to his left, and he jumped, startled, and accidentally dropped the piece of glass. She must have heard the clink it made when it hit the ground, because she walked over to him, shaking her head.

"Shame, shame," she said. She bent over and picked up the shard, holding it up to get a good look at it. "Trying to escape, are we? Like your girlfriend?"

It didn't seem like a good time to argue that Molly wasn't his girlfriend. And it was never a good idea to argue with a crazy person holding a gun. So he just sat there, yanking his wrists apart, hoping that he'd cut enough of the rope to do some good.

Kate grinned maliciously. "I know what I can do to make Molly come out and play," she said, and she pressed the barrel of her gun directly between Danny's eyes.

* * *

Jack tried to focus on the task at hand – getting Danny out of that church. But he couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the sight before him. Sam and Martin, locked in a, for lack of a better adjective, hot kiss, seemingly dead to the rest of the world. She was standing on the tips of her toes, and he had his arms wrapped around her waist, and Jack was positive they were going to suffocate if they didn't come up for air soon. 

Knowing about the relationship and actually seeing it were completely different things. He'd been upset, but he could have handled the two of them together as long as he never saw them actually together. And now that he'd seen it…well, he was looking forward to hitting a few bars on the way home.

"This isn't right," David said.

Jack shook his head and turned to look at the CIA supervisor, who was staring at the church as though hoping that it would collapse and solve all their problems. "What was your first clue?" he asked.

David rolled his eyes and glared at him. "We haven't received any kind of a phone call. We have no way to negotiate or check on the status of our people." He slammed his hands down on the hood of the car he'd been using for a desk. "This is not how things are done in America!"

* * *

Danny had never had a gun to his head before. The steel was ice cold, and it was sure to leave a bruise where it was touching Danny's skin. But, at the moment, he didn't care, because he could die in a matter of seconds, and things like having a bruise didn't seem all that important. 

"Oh, Molly!" Kate said in a singsong voice. "Come out, or I'll shoot your boyfriend!"

The sound of a throat being cleared made both Danny and Kate turn. It was Molly. She stood off to the side, leveling Danny's gun directly at Kate's head. "You don't want to do that," said Molly, taking a step closer.

"Yes, I do," said Kate. "I want you to suffer. You always blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. Perfect Molly, with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Let's see how much it hurts when someone's death is actually your fault."

Molly took another step closer, and Danny was amazed to see how steady her hands were. "I'm not kidding, Kate. I will shoot."

Kate snorted. "You're not going to shoot me. You don't have the stones."

Molly cocked the gun and said, "Try me."

"But I'm your best friend," Kate said, her voice mocking. "You can't live without me."

Molly didn't respond, and Danny saw her lower her arm slightly, which was obviously just what Kate had been waiting for. She pressed the gun against Danny's head even harder and cocked it. Danny closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

This was it. This was the end. He thought of all the things he wouldn't get to do, all the places he'd never get to see, all the things he'd never get to experience. He remembered all the thoughtless, stupid things he'd done while he was drunk, and he wished he could've gotten to spend more time with Rafi now that his brother was out of jail, and he wished he could've gotten to know his nephew, Nicky. He thought of his parents, and how he'd at least get to see them again, if there was such a place as Heaven and such a thing as God. But mostly he thought of how he wished he'd said something to Molly after they were together, so he wouldn't die with her thinking he was a complete jackass.

He was in the middle of that last thought when the gun went off.


	16. Over

Screw the CIA. This was FBI jurisdiction, anyway – he didn't know why he was taking orders from them. As soon as Jack heard a shot being fired, he leapt over the police tape and raced into the church. Sam, Martin, and Vivian followed behind him, guns drawn. They ran through the broken doorway and into the collapsing sanctuary. Jack practically skidded to a halt when he finally realized what he was seeing.

Danny was tied to a chair, his eyes closed. A blonde woman lay sprawled on the dirty floor, blood pooling around her head from a gunshot wound. She was obviously dead. And Molly, standing off to the side, was holding a still smoking gun. Her eyes were wide, her mouth was slightly open, as though she couldn't believe what had just happened.

When Jack saw the gun in the blonde woman's hand, he realized what had happened.

He slowly walked over to Molly and took the gun out of her hand. She let him, didn't even try to stop him, just continued to stare at the blonde woman.

Jack nodded at Martin and Sam, who went over to untie Danny, then he turned back to Molly. "Miss Sheehan?"

She looked up at him, her green eyes blank, and said, "She was going to kill him."

He assumed she meant the blonde woman. He nodded, trying to be encouraging. Whatever his opinion on the redhead, she had just been through a terrifying ordeal, and he owed her, at least, in that she'd probably saved Danny's life. "I know."

"I couldn't let her do that," Molly said. "I couldn't let her kill him."

Jack turned to look at Martin and Sam, who had freed Danny. Martin glanced over at him. "He's okay. Just a little shaken."

Molly breathed a huge sigh of relief at those words and brought her hands to cover her face. Jack noticed that she was shaking as well.

Vivian, meanwhile, had bent down to examine the body. Careful not to disturb her, Viv grabbed a handkerchief out of her pocket and searched the victim, probably looking for ID. She pulled out a wallet and opened it, examining the contents. She looked at Jack and shook her head. "It's our girl."

Jack looked at Molly, slightly frightened by the blank look in her eyes as the realization of what exactly had transpired hit him full force. Responding to a supposed 911 call from the missing, Danny and Molly had come to the church, thinking that they were going to be rescuing Kate, only to be held hostage by her. Jack didn't know why – didn't care to know why – but he knew that Molly had just shot her best friend and roommate, and the fact that she was so unemotional about it was really starting to scare him. "It's okay, Miss Sheehan. It's over."

She laughed shortly, coldly, and nodded. "Yeah. Over."

* * *

The scene was complete chaos. What had consisted of less than two dozen federal agents had grown to include local law enforcement, the fire department, coroner, and paramedics, not to mention half a dozen news crews and a group of "concerned citizens" who hovered around the outside of the police tape trying to catch a glimpse of the action. It was a jurisdictional nightmare – it had started out as being the responsibility of the FBI, but then the CIA got involved, and the shooting technically fell under NYPD. Jack, Agent Markum, and the NYPD chief were conversing a little ways from the chaos.

Danny sat in the back of the ambulance, having finally consented to being examined by the paramedics, if only to appease Sam's constant nagging, which was starting to get on his nerves. And, as he suspected, anything that was wrong with him was psychological and not physical, except for a tiny cut on his finger from handling the broken glass.

When the paramedics finally released him, he went straight for Molly, who sat by herself, on the ground, away from the flashing lights from the police cruisers and ambulances.

He'd wanted to go to her sooner, but had been unable to do so. Between Sam and the others being so relieved to see him alive, Jack chewing him out for his carelessness, and the paramedics checking him out, he hadn't been able to get away. Even if he had, Molly was just as occupied as he was. She'd had to talk to the coroner, the NYPD, her supervisor, and the paramedics as well before she was finally released. And as soon as they said she was finished, she had gone off by herself and collapsed onto the sidewalk, well out of sight from the news crews and onlookers.

She didn't even look up when he approached and didn't acknowledge him when he sat down beside her. He was proud of her. All during her statements to Jack, her supervisor, and the police chief, she'd been calm and collected, telling them almost everything that had happened from the minute she and Danny had fled her apartment. Obviously, there were some things that the FBI, CIA, and NYPD didn't need to know. She'd submitted to a physical examination, since there'd been a struggle – and Kate had bitten her, and who's to say Kate didn't have rabies or something – but all law bodies involved agreed that Molly had been acting in self-defense, and that she wouldn't be charged with anything.

He draped his arm across her shoulders, pulling her into a tight, one-armed hug, and that's when she finally broke down. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed into his shirt. She cried until there were no more tears, and Danny held her to him the entire time.

He had come this close to losing her, and he wasn't about to let go now.

* * *

**4 Days Later**

Jack wasn't looking forward to this, but it had to be done. Danny had broken protocol, obstructed justice, assaulted him, and fled a crime scene with a potential suspect. Even after the ordeal he and Molly had gone through, he had to be reprimanded for his poor decisions. He needed to learn that all actions had consequences.

It had taken a few days to file the necessary paperwork and gather everyone needed for a disciplinary hearing, but Danny had been on paid leave until the committee convened. There hadn't been such a hearing in a while, and Jack had had to brush up on the procedure before taking his seat in the conference room. The other agents, the ones who didn't know Danny, the ones who hadn't been involved with the investigation, who hadn't been at that church, all wore similar expressions of grim determination, as though resolved to make Danny an example for any other agents with delusions of grandeur, or whatever had prompted Danny to run off with Molly.

Danny was early, surprisingly. He was always early – but given the inordinate amount of time he'd been spending with Molly since the whole situation, Jack had assumed he'd be late. He sat down in the chair at the opposite end of the table and folded his hands in front of him. He looked expectantly at the panel, his eyebrows raised. He didn't look worried or anxious at all; he simply looked impatient, as though he just wanted to get this over with.

Agent Grimaldi, from traffic, was in charge of the hearing. Since she had never had any contact with any of the agents in missing persons, it was believed that she could be the most objective when it came to the situation. She shuffled a stack of papers, stacking them neatly on the table before speaking. "Agent Taylor, I trust you understand why you're here?"

Danny nodded. "Yes, I do."

Despite the fact that everyone knew why they were there, Agent Grimaldi apparently felt the need to sum up the situation. "You are here because you seriously jeopardized an ongoing investigation, which could have resulted in the death of the missing person involved. You helped a suspect evade police custody, breaking dozens of the bureau's regulations in the process. And you assaulted your supervisor." Agent Grimaldi cleared her throat. "Do you have anything to say in your defense before we decide your punishment?"

Danny opened his mouth, as if to say something, then apparently decided against it and shook his head. "No." He glanced at his watch. "Could we hurry this up? There's someplace else I have to be."

Agent Grimaldi raised her eyebrows, and Jack shook his head in disbelief. "You have somewhere more important to be, Agent Taylor?" she asked.

He gave a half-shrug. "Yeah."

The others on the panel began to mutter among themselves, but Jack couldn't resist the urge to smile. He knew exactly where it was that Danny had to be, and perhaps if the others had known, they wouldn't be reacting in quite the same way.

Today was Kate Davidson's funeral.

Danny had explained why he was going – not to Jack personally, because he wasn't speaking to Jack – and the rest of the team had understood. And when Sam informed Jack why Danny was going, he supposed he should have known all along. Danny wasn't going to get closure from the whole ordeal, or to forgive the person who had nearly killed him; he was going because Molly was a wreck, had been so for days, and was going to need a supportive shoulder to cry on. From what Jack could gather, based on the snippets of conversation he overheard, Molly was having a pretty tough time of it, which Jack could more than understand. And his initial assumption that she was unemotional about the whole thing could not have been more wrong.

And even though he felt horrible for so completely misjudging her, he couldn't bring himself to apologize for his behavior – not even with Danny being reprimanded for "assaulting" him, when in fact Jack had provoked him into doing so.

When the panel members had finished conferring, Agent Grimaldi turned back to Danny. "Very well, Agent Taylor. Your punishment will consist of the following."

Danny straightened in his chair.

"Suspension," Agent Grimaldi said. "One month without pay."

Danny winced, but nodded. Jack had told him – not directly, since Danny wasn't speaking to him, but via Sam and Viv – what to expect. Suspension without pay was basic, but a month was fairly harsh. Jack had anticipated two weeks maximum, but he supposed that Danny's attitude at the moment was what had bumped it higher.

"Probation," Agent Grimaldi said. "One year, effective after your return from suspension, during which you are not to be alone with a witness or a suspect for any length of time."

Danny nodded somberly, his gaze directed at the table.

"At the end of your probationary period," Agent Grimaldi said, and Danny glanced up, "we will reconvene and make the decision whether to continue or terminate your probation." She narrowed her eyes, reminding Jack strongly of his twelfth grade math teacher. "And I seriously recommend that you seek counseling."

Danny cocked an eyebrow, but nodded. Jack had a gut feeling about what Danny was going to do with that recommendation. "Are we done?" Danny asked.

Agent Grimaldi gave an over-exaggerated sigh and nodded. "Yes, Agent Taylor. And I don't want to see you in this building for another four weeks."

Danny stood abruptly and made for the door. Jack dodged several of the panel members to catch Danny before he left.

"Danny."

Danny turned to face him, his face betraying no emotion whatsoever.

Jack paused, choosing his next words carefully. Eventually, he exhaled a puff of air through pursed lips and rested his hand on Danny's shoulder. "Give Molly my best."

Danny narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as though attempting to gauge the sincerity of Jack's remark, but at last he nodded. "I will."

Then he turned around and was gone.

* * *

Danny opened the door to the sanctuary a crack – just enough to peek through – but the service didn't appear to have started yet. To Danny's surprise, given the horror stories he'd heard about Kate, the church was packed. There were hardly any empty seats to be found, save for an area in the back, where he noticed a distinct void, with Molly at the center.

She sat as far away from the other mourners as possible, on the far aisle seat in the very last pew. The pew that she sat in was only half-filled, as was the pew in front of her, making it quite obvious that everyone else was making a big show of avoiding the woman responsible for the funeral. Every now and then Danny saw people point at her and whisper to their neighbors, but Molly didn't seem to notice. Or, if she noticed, she didn't seem to care.

Danny slipped through the door without making a noise and darted across the sanctuary to where Molly sat. She looked at him, smiling sadly, as he took the seat beside her. He ignored the shocked looks he was getting from the other mourners and took Molly's hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, and then she laid her head on his shoulder.

"You're late," she said, in a trembling whisper, though he knew she was just trying to avoid the issue. She'd been avoiding the issue for the past four days, and he never wanted to be the one who brought it up. She would talk when she was ready.

"Traffic," he said, which couldn't exactly be construed as a lie. He glanced around nervously, feeling guilty for lying in a church.

She burrowed her face into his neck. "What did the committee decide?"

Of course she would ask about that; she knew that his hearing had been that day and she, understandably, felt responsible. But she already had enough to deal with, enough guilt to way her down, so he tried to downplay her involvement by insisting that she wasn't at fault – he had acted of his own freewill and she shouldn't be held responsible for his own actions. Which was true, to a point, though his freewill was sufficiently compromised whenever he was around her. But he wasn't about to tell her that.

"It's not important," he said, kissing the top of her head. "We'll talk about it later."

Then the music started, and the chatter quieted down. The priest – whom Danny recognized as Father Matthews, the priest who had given them the evil eye the previous Saturday – walked up to the pulpit and addressed the mourners. People all over the sanctuary burst into tears, and the priest's eulogy was often interrupted by bouts of wailing. Several of Kate and Molly's sorority sisters spoke, telling anecdotes about their college days and talking about what a great person Kate had been, and Danny couldn't help thinking, _What a load of crap._ A few of Kate's coworkers also got up to speak, as did one of Kate's cousins and a young man who turned out to be Kate's brother.

Then Father Matthews paged through the tome sitting on the pulpit, and said, in a booming voice, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want…" This was punctuated by another burst of loud sobs, which didn't seem to slow down the priest at all. "He makes me lie down in green pastures…"

It wasn't until the church choir got up to sing a hymn that Molly showed any emotion over the death of her roommate. Father Matthews informed the mourners that the choir had chosen to sing "Nearer, My God, to Thee", and when the choir began to sing the first verse, Molly started crying – silently, not like the wailers who, from what Danny could tell, were in the first or second row, and were probably family anyway. He wouldn't have even noticed except her head was still on his shoulder, and she was getting yet another one of his shirts wet.

He really would have to speak to her about that.

When the service concluded, and the pallbearers marched up to the coffin to carry it out to the waiting hearse, the mourners rose to follow. Molly gripped Danny's hand even harder and shot out of her seat, apparently hoping to make it out of the church before anyone could say anything to her. But the processional, which reached the doors at about the same time, held them up. Kate's parents and brother were directly behind the casket – Mr. and Mrs. Davidson both shot death glares in Molly's direction, and she shrank away from their gaze. Kate's brother wore a deadened expression; he acknowledged Molly with a curt nod. Extended family came next, all of whom completely ignored Molly, while loudly whispering that this was all her fault. Molly retreated even farther away, half-hiding herself behind Danny, using him as a shield. Her sorority sisters that passed gave her friendly smiles and reassuring pats on the arm, but Kate's coworkers sneered at her. By the time the church had finally emptied and they were able to leave, Molly was inconsolable.

Danny stopped her in the vestibule, pulling her into a much-needed hug and not particularly caring who saw them at that point. She clutched him to her, burying her face in his chest, and he rested his chin on her forehead.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" Danny asked. Molly had been out of it for days, barely speaking, hardly eating, not sleeping. Danny was starting to get concerned. "Anywhere you want to go, and we'll go."

He felt her shake her head. "I just want to go home."

"Home" no longer meant her apartment. She refused to go back there. A group of her sisters had stopped by her place to pick up some essentials – toiletries, clothes, and the like – and brought them to Danny's place, where Molly had been staying for the past four days.

Normally this kind of arrangement would have bothered Danny; he liked his space, and generally the thought of a girl staying with him would have filled him with a sense of panic, making him think that the relationship was progressing faster than he intended – but he couldn't in good conscience send Molly back to her apartment when she so clearly couldn't stay there. And he liked the idea of knowing where Molly was, and waking up next to her every morning. Molly was different, and he knew it – which is why he never even considered suggesting that she check into a hotel for a while.

Danny unlocked the door and held it open for Molly, then locked it behind him. He tossed his keys onto the sad excuse for a kitchen table and watched as Molly deposited her jacket on the back of the couch. She stopped in the middle of the living room and hugged herself, and for a moment Danny thought that she was going to start crying again. He immediately went to her, but the second he touched her shoulder, she whirled around and kissed him.

He didn't stop to question why she was kissing him. For one, he didn't so much care why, and the other reason was because he knew why. Every time she was reminded of Kate – something she saw on TV, something she read in the paper, or if she just remembered something – she would kiss him. Same way every time, too. She may not have shown any outward emotion, but it was there whenever they were together. It was like she saved up all that excess emotion and poured it into her lips. It was always the same. She would kiss him until they were both breathless, and while he tried to regain his senses, she'd make her way to the bedroom, undressing along the way. Sometimes Danny wondered why they even bothered to get dressed in the morning, because they would just be out of their clothes in a matter of minutes.

If he really thought about it, he would know that this kind of behavior was self-destructive, and that eventually Molly was going to have to face what had happened like an adult and deal with her emotions. But for the moment, he was kind of enjoying the ride, because it had been a long time – a very long time – since he'd had any kind of relationship with a girl, and the fact that Molly seemed to be making good on her promise that they not get out of bed for at least a week had a little something to do with that, he knew.

So when Molly paused at the door to his bedroom, already naked, he let his lower extremities do his thinking for him, and followed her to bed.

* * *

**A/N: See, I told you I'd have this up soon! It may be a while before I can get chapter 17 up (I have nothing of that written yet, but I know what I'm doing), but hopefully that will be posted by the end of the week. (Of course, my wretched aunt is coming to visit this week, and will be staying in the room where my computer is. Blah.)**

**I had written the whole hostage situation differently, with a lot more gunfire, but I realized that if there were gunfire, then the other agents would have rushed to investigate, and I couldn't have them doing that too soon, so I took the shooting out. I hope it still made some kind of sense and read okay and everything.**

**Think Danny got a harsh enough punishment? That was bugging me, because I didn't know what to do. It had to be pretty serious, because he did break a lot of rules, but not so serious that he was, like, fired or anything. I think it'd suck to not get paid for a month, and I don't even get paid that much, but that's just me.**

**The agent from traffic gets her name from my sister's restaurant -- Patsy Grimaldi's Coal Brick-Oven Pizzeria. I've never been there, myself, but my parents say it's the best pizza in the world (but of course my parents would say that about my sister's restaurant). If you're anywhere near Chandler, AZ, stop on by! And don't forget to tip your bartender!**

**The Bible verse is, of course, Psalms 23. I am hopefully allowed to put that in my stories, since no one owns the rights to the Bible. I don'tintend on getting sued. The version I have is the New International Version, and I think Catholics use the King James Version, but I don't have that one, so bear with me. I don't think there's all that many differences in the wording, anyway.**

**Season finale this Thursday! Rock on!**


	17. Promise

**A/N: For the second part of this chapter, parental discretion is advised. Consider yourself warned.**

**P.S. OH MY GOD! The season finale! How am I supposed to wait until September to find out if Danny and Martin are okay? Why do TPTB insist on doing this to me? It's a conspiracy.

* * *

**

3 Days Later

Danny woke sometime in the middle of the night. He blinked several times in rapid succession, allowing his eyes to become adjusted to the lack of light, and tried to think of what could have possibly woken him up. He thought it may have been Molly's cell again – her sorority sisters had a bad habit of drunk dialing her – but after listening for a few moments, he didn't hear a phone. Satisfied that there was nothing out of place in his apartment, he rolled over, throwing his arm over Molly.

She wasn't there.

He sat up in mild shock, positive that she had been beside him when he fell asleep. Yes, he distinctly remembered that, because she was a clingy sleeper and always fell asleep hugging his stomach. Normally he hated girls that cuddled, but he had a feeling that Molly was afraid of waking up and him not being there, so he didn't mind it so much when it was her. But apparently, it was all right for him to wake up alone in the middle of the night. He groaned and slid out of bed, groping in the darkness for his boxers. Then he padded down the hallway and into the living room, where Molly sat on the couch.

She wasn't doing anything except sitting, half-buried in his bathrobe, which was way too big for her. She had curled her legs up underneath her and was hugging herself tightly, staring at the wall. She had neglected to turn on the lights, so she sat in the darkness. His heart broke at the sight of her.

"Molly?"

She turned to look at him, and from what little light was coming in through the window, he could see that she was crying again. "Did I wake you?" she asked, sniffling.

He shook his head, moving slowly towards the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

It had been a week since the incident, and Molly hadn't said a word about it. She hardly spoke at all; it was as if she were afraid of even mentioning Kate's name. At first, Danny hadn't minded – he didn't really feel up to talking about the whole ordeal either – but as days went by and Molly still wouldn't talk, he got worried. After the funeral, he tried broaching the subject several times, as delicately as possible. He'd even called Sam and Viv and asked for advice, but all of his attempts to get Molly to open up were met with the same kind of reticence that he was getting now. Molly, for whatever reasons, just didn't want to talk about it.

Danny sat beside her on the couch, and she immediately snuggled against him. His hand automatically began to stroke her hair. "You might feel better if you talked about it."

She looked up at him, and he used his thumb to brush away a stray tear. "What went through your mind?"

He raised his eyebrows, not sure if he'd heard her correctly. "Excuse me?"

She pulled away from him. "When Kate had the gun to your head. What did you think about?"

Danny opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn't quite sure what to say. He thought about telling her the truth, but that would mean launching into the whole story of his parents' accident and his brother's stint in jail and his alcoholism, and he just didn't have the strength to bring all of that up right now. He shook his head and tried to draw her back towards him. "That's not important."

She ducked under his arm and scooted away. "It's important to me." She shook her head, making a noise in the back of her throat that Danny could only describe as a grunt. "You complain that I don't tell you anything, but you never talk to me either. I wasn't the only person in that church, Danny."

He sighed. "I know." His heart still gave a little jump when she called him by his first name, which she had been doing with more frequency the past few days. For a while, she'd insisted on calling him "Agent Taylor".

She leaned forward, her eyes earnest. "Then talk to me."

He rolled his eyes and stood up, making his way into the kitchen to make some coffee. There was no way he was going back to sleep now. "You want some coffee?"

Molly shot him an incredulous look, as though she couldn't believe he would want to make coffee while she was trying to have a serious discussion. "No." She crawled across the couch, leaning over the back of it, and if he had been in the mood, he would have noticed that the robe hung open, exposing most of her chest. But he wasn't in the mood. "Why won't you talk to me?"

He shrugged and turned his back to her, banging around the kitchen. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit," Molly said, in what could only be construed as a growl, and Danny turned around, hoping he'd imagined the amount of fury in her voice. She shook her head, clearly angry. "I'm not just talking about the church, Danny. Why don't you ever talk about your family?"

His good mood – which wasn't that good, but it was better than usual – was rapidly disintegrating. He whirled around to face the cabinets and started rummaging through them, looking for the coffee. Molly had only been in his apartment a week and already nothing was where it should be. She apparently dealt with grief by rearranging things. "Don't go there, Molly."

She must have gotten off the couch, because he heard footsteps, and in three seconds she was at his side, gripping his arm. "Why don't you want to let me in?"

He narrowed his eyes and decided to turn the tables on her. "Why won't you talk about what happened?"

She blinked several times, as though absorbing his anger – which he hadn't meant to throw at her, but the words had just come spitting out before he'd had the chance to soften them. She stared at her feet for several long moments before looking back up at him. "Because I don't deal with grief very well."

Danny snorted, a little harsher than he'd intended, but he was getting frustrated. "You don't deal with it at all."

She licked her lips, and if he had been in the mood, he would have found the simple action incredibly arousing. But he wasn't in the mood. "That's because the way I deal with grief usually involves a bottle. And I don't want to be that person anymore." She grabbed his chin with her hand, forcing him to look at her and only her. "You want to know why I wanted to stay here? Because you don't keep alcohol in your apartment, and my place has a full liquor cabinet that's all too easy to jimmy open." She averted her eyes momentarily but brought them right back to his. "After my parents died, I had a glass of vodka to my lips before I realized what I was doing. I'm not strong, Danny. I couldn't go through that again."

He immediately felt guilty. He had completely forgotten all about the liquor cabinet in her apartment, hadn't realized how tempting that would be for her, how difficult it would be to stay in the apartment she had shared with the woman who tried to kill her. And he'd selfishly thought that she wanted to stay with him because she didn't want to be apart from him, which – if he were forced to admit – was kind of nice.

"Kate was the closest thing I had to family," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "and look what she did to me." She laughed softly and left go of his face, using that hand to comb her fingers through her hair. "I mean, how do you deal with something like that? It isn't something you can get over in the span of a week. It's going to take time, you know."

Danny sighed and nodded. Of course she was right. It had only been a week – it probably wasn't even real to her yet. He still wasn't sure if he was past what had happened to his parents. "I'm sorry I pushed you," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "I just – "

She gave him a small smile. "You're worried about me. That's sweet. But it's not necessary."

He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I can't not worry about you." He scrubbed a hand across his face and glanced up at the ceiling, then brought his gaze back to hers. "Have I ever told you about my brother, Rafi?"

She shook her head. "Why, no. You've never brought him up. Ever."

He laughed at the sarcasm in her voice and kissed the top of her head. "Well, how about you make us some coffee and I'll tell you about him?"

She smiled. "You just want me to be awake so you can…"

He used one finger to trace the shell of her ear, effectively cutting her off, and couldn't help but grin when he felt her shiver. "The thought had crossed my mind."

So they sat on the couch and talked. He told her all about his childhood, his parents and how he blamed himself for what happened to him, his brother and their father's abuse, and everything he could think of – including the time he was supposed to take the bar exam and got busted for drunk driving. And she told him about Kate – what she'd been like back in college, before she went psycho. They talked until the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, and then they went to bed. But they didn't go to sleep.

* * *

She marked him. She sucked, nipped, bit, scratched at every inch of exposed skin so that there would be no doubt in anyone's mind that he was hers. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip until she drew blood. She drew her nails across his back with enough pressure to break the skin. She sucked on the sweat-slick flesh of his throat long enough for him to feel the mark forming just above his collarbone. Every kiss, every touch burned into him like nothing ever had, until it was seared onto his very soul. And there was no mistaking that he belonged to her. He was hers and only hers, and she made damn sure of that.

He moved on top of her, and his name fell from her lips, and he returned the favor, nipping her collarbone hard enough to bruise, trailing kisses down her chest, staking his claim on her as much as she had marked him as her territory. He was determined that when she returned to work, everyone would know that she was his. He knew exactly what to do to make her his – exactly how to move to shatter her composure, to make her break and crumble and come undone in his arms. And he did it every time, because she was his and only his. He made damn sure of that.

And when they were spent and exhausted and recovering their senses, they both rolled onto their sides, with him shaping his body to fit hers, curling around her and protecting her from whatever bad things existed outside the utopia of his bedroom. For the moment, at least, she would be safe within the shelter of his arms.

* * *

Danny waited anxiously for Molly to get home from work. He hadn't protested the week she'd requested off work, because he knew that she needed a break, and last Friday when she claimed she was ready to return to her usual routine, he hadn't argued either. She knew what she was doing, and who was he to tell her anything different?

But he'd neglected to think of what it would be like for him without Molly there. He was bored out of his mind. He could only play the Playstation for so long before his vision started to blur, he'd watched all of his movies recently – not that he had a massive collection from which to choose – and daytime TV just wasn't what it used to be. He tried watching a soap opera, but he was so confused that he turned it off halfway through. He went for a walk to clear his head, but he didn't go far, because he wanted to be back at the apartment when Molly got home. He had to be; she was staying there, yeah, but he couldn't quite bring himself to give her a key. With him on suspension, there didn't seem to be a reason, which was the excuse he was using to justify his actions – but really he just wasn't sure if he had the stones to make that step. It would make their situation permanent. But he still liked the idea of her coming home to his apartment.

When she got home, though, she was clearly upset. He could tell from across the room that she was crying by the way she was walking – the halting, disjointed step of someone whose eyes were so filled with tears that she couldn't see straight – and by the fact that her hands were shaking.

He was at her side in seconds. "What happened?"

She shook her head, crying so hard that she didn't seem able to form coherent speech.

He tried again. "Molly, what happened?"

She took a couple of deep breaths, but it took her a long time to calm down enough to speak. He led her over to the couch and let her cry until she was done. She looked at him, her dark eyes sad, and said, "Work sucked."

He bit his lip to keep from smiling. He knew that she used humor as a defense mechanism, so something was obviously wrong. "It's supposed to," he said, rubbing her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "That's why they call it 'work' and not, like, 'happy play time', or something like that." He threaded his fingers in her hair. "Did someone say something to you?"

Molly shook her head again. "There are apparently a lot of people who feel that I wasn't sufficiently punished for what I did."

"What you did?" said Danny, incredulous. "Do these people not realize that you were held hostage at gunpoint by a woman you thought was your friend? And that she would have killed me if you hadn't fired first?"

She grunted. "You know the majority of people stop listening when they've heard what they want to hear. I got so many angry calls on my work phone that I had to get Jimmy to screen my calls – and he was not happy about that, let me tell you. He kept saying that he didn't get his Ph.D. to be a glorified secretary."

Danny immediately hated this guy who couldn't understand what Molly was going through. It didn't matter that Danny had never met him and had absolutely no idea who he was – he was going down. "Did you tell your boss?"

"There's only so much Dave can do," she said. "But I will have to get a new phone number."

"What about your cell?" Danny asked. Every time she answered it, it was one of her sorority sisters. So far, there hadn't been any threatening calls or voicemails that worried her, so he didn't think there would be any.

"No. But I went to the apartment and…" She trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes once more. "Let's just say I'm glad I'm not living there anymore."

Danny bristled at that seemingly throwaway comment. When had their temporary situation become a permanent one? He forced himself to calm down and resumed his ministrations on Molly's back, because she was looking at him questioningly. "Hate mail?"

Molly nodded. "Lots of it. Mostly from Kate's family or friends who aren't friends with me. They all blame me for what happened." She exhaled a forceful blast of air and looked at the wall. "Maybe it is my fault."

"It is not," Danny said, and the words came out more forceful than he'd intended. "You did not make Kate a psychopath. She did that all on her own."

"Yeah, but she was my roommate. I could have done something to help her. I should have recognized the signs. How could I have possibly been so blind?"

Danny sighed. "You didn't see it because you didn't want to. Because she was your friend."

She snorted. "Yeah, fat lot of good that brought me." She sank against the back of the couch and covered her face with her hands. "I have to get out of here."

First sensible idea Molly had had in a week. "Good idea," he said, standing. "I'll get my jacket. We'll go to a movie or something."

Molly laid a hand on his arm. "No, Danny. I meant that I have to get out of New York."

He froze, unsure if he'd heard her correctly. She was going to bail? After all that crap she'd spewed about knowing a good thing when she saw it, after everything they'd been through together, after seeing the way she looked at him, the look in her eyes when they were together, and she could just pick up and leave? Just like that? When he was capable of intelligent speech, he could only choke out one-word sentences. "What? Why?"

She shook her head. "I've got friends in Georgia. They're willing to let me crash there until I can find my own place. And I've already talked to Dave about a transfer."

Danny couldn't believe his ears. She already had a place to live and a job waiting for her? How long had she known that she was going to leave? "Just exactly when did you decide this?"

She looked at him through her eyelashes. "I was actually idly considering it a couple of weeks ago, but after…after what happened, I started to put more thought into it. I thought about it a lot last week, and after today, I realized that I just need to get away for a while."

He put his hands on his hips. "And when were you planning on telling me?"

Molly raised an eyebrow. "I'm telling you now. Nothing's official yet, you know. My transfer still has to go through."

"Don't I have any say in this?"

"Danny," she said, and her voice was so soft that he could almost feel his resolve crumbling, "I don't want to sound like a bitch, but you really don't."

If her goal with that statement was to piss him off, mission accomplished. "What?"

She wouldn't look at him. "This decision has nothing to do with you. I was thinking about it before we even met, and we've only known each other a week. It's not like we're married, and I have to discuss it with you." She stood up abruptly and went to the kitchen; Danny had a feeling that she was going to start cooking. "I actually considered leaving after September 11. It was so hard to be here with my parents gone, and I just wanted a change of scenery. That's what I need now – a change of scenery, a chance to get away from all these memories that are weighing me down, a chance at a full night's sleep."

Danny bit the inside of his cheek. They didn't sleep much, but when she did manage to doze off, she almost always ended up in the throes of some nightmare. He wondered how she even managed to function during the day. He walked over to the counter and braced both hands on its top. "A change of scenery is not going to change what happened."

She opened the refrigerator and rifled through it. "I know that."

"All this crap you're dealing with is going to be here when you get back."

She grabbed a package of tortillas and a block of cheese and put them on the counter. "I know that."

"Then why do you want to leave?"

Her green eyes met his brown ones, and he tried to read the emotion in them, but he couldn't. "Because I need to. And I need you to understand."

Danny turned around and leaned against the counter. "So that's it, then? You're just going to leave?"

Molly's voice was sad. "If my transfer comes through, yes. But it isn't because of you, so stop sulking like a petulant child, and it isn't because this…thing…we have doesn't mean anything to me."

"Then why?" He turned his head as far as it would go, not wanting to turn the entire away around but desperate to at least see her when she answered.

"Because I'm afraid to go back to my apartment. Because I'm starting to hear whispers when I walk down the street. Because I can't walk past a church without getting the chills. Because I killed the woman who I considered my surrogate family, and everyone expects me to just get over it. Well, I can't 'get over it', and I don't think I should have to, and if I have to move two thousand miles away to get a little peace of mind, then damnit, I'm going to do that. Because I deserve a little peace. I deserve to keep my sanity."

* * *

**1 Week Later**

Danny normally hated airports. In his line of work, airports and other transportation depots were usually just frustrating, because it involved searching for one person among a sea of several thousand. There were just too many people, too many distractions.

But today he was glad for the distractions. He stood in the middle of the terminal – near the magazine stand – and watched people bustle past him, so intent on going somewhere that they were completely oblivious to what was going on around them. He watched people saying goodbye to each other in all manner of ways – hugs, kisses, high fives, pats on the back, handshakes, even a few screaming matches – as he waited for Molly to come back from getting her boarding pass.

They had talked the matter to death over the past week. Her transfer came in around Wednesday, and that night they had a full-on argument about the situation. Danny didn't like the idea of her leaving, because he felt that she was just running away from her problems and that nothing would be solved by her flying off to Georgia. But Molly refused to yield, saying that it would be good for her to get out of the city for a while, and in the end, Danny just gave up. It wasn't worth fighting over, since she had clearly made up her mind, and he didn't want to argue with her when she was leaving in only a few days. So he accepted the inevitability that she was going to leave, but that didn't mean he had to agree with it or like it.

She'd even extended him an invitation to go with her. He still had almost three weeks of suspension to get through, so he clearly wasn't going to be doing anything, but he opted not to go. If he went with her, he wasn't sure if he would ever return, and he just couldn't pack up and leave New York like she could. He still had family, still had friends, still technically had a job, and he just couldn't abandon all of that, no matter how much he wanted to.

But for a few hours the night before Molly's flight, he'd seriously considered it. He was even halfway through dialing Jack's number before he changed his mind.

He rolled her suitcase back and forth to amuse himself, wondering what was taking so long. Being alone with his thoughts was not where he wanted to be. He wanted to be back in his apartment, in bed, with his arms wrapped around Molly. But she'd asked him if he wanted to see her off, and he couldn't say no; after all, who knew when he'd see her again?

"God, it's a madhouse," Molly said, appearing from behind a group of Japanese tourists and dragging her carry-on behind her. "It's been a while since I flew."

She smiled at him, but he couldn't return it. "What gate?"

Her smile faded a bit but didn't disappear. "C-55. American Airlines flight 79." She slung her carry-on back over her shoulder and stared at him for a while. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

He shook his head. "This is your thing." He hoped he managed to keep all the bitterness out of his voice.

She nodded sadly, and they headed towards the gate. She checked her bag, and when they reached the security checkpoint, it was time to say goodbye, which was what Danny had been dreading ever since waking up that morning. He couldn't even tell himself that it was goodbye forever, since he had absolutely no idea when or if she would be coming back.

They faced each other, standing several feet apart, both clearly unsure of what to do.

Danny spoke first. "Have a good flight." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. They sounded so lame.

She winked. "It'd be better if you were coming."

He just looked at her. "You know why I can't."

She narrowed her eyes. "And you know why I have to."

He sighed. This wasn't how he'd pictured the whole moment in his head. And here he was, being a complete jerk, so that her last memory of him would be him being an asshole as she was leaving for who knows how long. That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be smooth – like Humphrey Bogart in _Casablanca_. That was a guy who knew how to let his girl go. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just…don't want you to go."

She crossed the no-man's land that had sprouted between them and stretched up on her toes to kiss him. This kiss was unlike all of their others – those had been hungry, full of passion, about need and lust, precursors to the show that would soon follow. But this kiss was soft and tender, full of promise. When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes – but she still smiled and lightly touched her fingers to his lips.

"It's only temporary," she said, barely able to get the words out. "I'll be back."

His eyes burned as tears began to form. "Promise?"

She kissed him again, then turned and headed for the metal detectors. She didn't look back until she was on the other side of the checkpoint, when she raised her hand in a pathetic excuse for a wave. Then she turned and ran towards her gate.

* * *

**1 Month Later**

Danny was in a good mood, for the first time in a long time. Their investigation into the abduction of a 12-year-old boy from the Metropolitan Museum of Art had a happy ending, and Danny liked when cases had happy endings. It was difficult adjusting to the parameters of his probation, but he liked his job too much to lodge a formal protest. Besides, he considered himself lucky to still be employed, and he knew that he deserved the reprimand.

When the team got back to the office, there was a bouquet of flowers sitting on Danny's desk. They were beautiful – not that Danny put much stock in flowers, but he did know beauty when he saw it – pure white, with five petals, and they came in their own vase, which was light blue. Danny had no idea who they were from – though he had a pretty good idea – but it didn't stop Martin from hassling him about it.

"Aw, Danny, did you and your boyfriend have a fight?" Martin asked, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

Danny found the card stuck among the flowers and held it up. "Actually, Marty, they're from your boyfriend."

Actually, the card was blank. Danny turned it over several times, hoping that there would be some indication that his assumption was correct, but there wasn't so much as a letter on either side of the card.

Sam walked over to his desk to examine the flowers. She bent forward to sniff one and then straightened, smiling at Danny. "These are Cherokee roses," she said, with the air of someone who had a big secret.

"Never heard of them," said Martin.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Doesn't surprise me." She turned back to Danny. "They're the state flower of Georgia."

* * *

His cell phone rang just as he was getting off the elevator in his apartment building. He answered it the way he always did. "Taylor."

"Agent Taylor," said the voice on the other end, which he would have recognized even if he were deaf, "did you get my flowers?"

He smiled. Molly had left him half a dozen voice mails over the past month, and he left her just as many, but they never seemed to catch each other. It was the most infuriating game of phone tag Danny had ever played. "Yes, thank you. I am now the laughing stock of the office."

"Ah, then my mission is successful. Did you get the package?"

"What package?" Just as he asked that, he came in sight of his door, where a small package was sitting just outside. How it had managed to not get stolen was a mystery. "Never mind."

He picked up the package, unlocked his door, and shuffled into his apartment. It was very awkward trying to carry the flowers, the package, and still talk on the phone, but he managed. "How's Georgia treating you?" he asked. He put the flower vase on the counter in the kitchen and started rummaging through the drawers in search of a pair of scissors.

"This damn humidity, it makes my hair frizz. I don't know how some people stand it."

Danny found the scissors and set to work opening the package. "There's humidity in New York, you know."

"Not so much of it. And I'm really starting to hate being called 'the Yankee'. Because apparently, I am the only Yankee in the entire United States. And it's doubly insulting, because I'm a Mets fan."

He couldn't help but laugh as managed to get the box open and starting sifting through the Styrofoam packing peanuts. "Then you'll just have to come back here, where everyone is a Yankee and half of the city are Mets fans."

"Yes, but then what would I complain about?"

At last he found something buried under all those packing peanuts. He pulled out a copy of the illustrated version of _The Da Vinci Code_. He shook his head, smiling. Leave it to Molly to send him a book. "I'm sure you'd find something."

He flipped through the book, and something fell from between the pages.

"Not likely. I'm starting to think New York is the most perfect place in the entire world. And that includes Disney World – and let me tell you, you can't get much more perfect than Disney World. It's the happiest place on Earth, you know."

"Is that so?" Danny asked, picking up what had fallen from the book – which ended up being a photo – and was suddenly breathless. It was a picture of Molly sitting cross-legged on the beach, the sunrise behind her. She was smiling one of those shy, secret smiles that she saved only for him, and she was wearing that shirt he loved, that brought out the green of her eyes. He had never seen her look so beautiful.

Molly must have known what was going on, because she said, "Flip it over."

He did so, expecting to find a long, sappy love poem or something. But there was only one word.

_Promise._

_

* * *

_

**A/N: And that's the end! Fear not, I told you I had a sequel planned. I'll just be taking a little break for a while, hopefully getting "_'Ohana_" finished in the meantime, but rest assured, I do have plans to do a follow-up.**

**Special thanks go to cynically optimistic, anmodo, Mariel3, jtsideout389, x-angelicism-x, Lola314, Command Star, Sam rules, Tiarwen, Shelbers, Loozy, radioactive racoony, and jtofosho. You guys are awesome!**


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